Drowning In The Abyss
by Haunted Obsidian
Summary: It appears that traveling through the Gate affected Alphonse more than Edward ever knew. Sequel to Whispers of a Nightmare. Post movie.
1. First Wake

**Title : Drowning in the Abyss**

**Genre : Anime/Manga**

**Category : Full Metal Alchemist**

**Disclaimer : I am in no way affiliated with the fine people who created the show or manga but am grateful for it nonetheless. **

**Summary : It appears that traveling through the Gate affected Alphonse more than Edward ever knew. Sequel to Whispers of a Nightmare. Post movie.**

**Chapter 1 : First Wake**

Edward could hear the rain hitting the tree leaves as he ran past them, wincing as a branch brushed against his cheek, leaving quite a nasty scratch. Blood trickled down his pale skin, mixing with the transparent substance that was continuing to pour down from the heavens.

White puffs of mist departed his lips at an alarming rate, spiraling through the air and vanishing behind him as he continued to run, he doing his best to ignore how cold it truly was. The thin, long-sleeved white shirt wasn't enough to sustain what little warmth he had had, especially now that it was ripped and torn from the many past branches and shrubs he had come in contact with.

But the torn shirt wasn't his main concern at the moment.

He could hear the footsteps behind him, fading then sounding almost as if they were right at his back. And that voice—he could hear the person calling out to him, saying his name so eerily calm and composed that it didn't seem at though he was being chased at all. And that terrified him more than anything.

Strands of gold wrapped around his eyes, temporarily blinding him as he pushed forward through the thick brush, silently praying that his heart would stop beating so fast, but it continued to pulsate through his ears, reminding him that he was far from invincible. Even if his arm and leg _were_ made of metal.

Lightning flashed overhead, thunder rumbling in its wake. It crackled through the gray sky, echoing through the trees and brush, surrounding him with its force as the ground shook. He felt it creep up through his flesh leg, chills running up and down his spine as he pushed and dodged twigs and branches, his heart feeling like it could give out any second.

"Edward..."

They were calling for him again, and this time it was closer, much, much closer.

The nineteen year old could hear their footfalls sloshing through the muddy ground just as his were, though somehow, theirs seemed to be moving at twice the rate his was.

He sped up, or tried to, exhaustion flooding through his system. His flesh leg felt as though it was made of lead instead of nerves and muscles, and his left—although it didn't exactly weigh a hundred pounds, it sure as hell felt like it at the moment.

His black slacks had become a bit baggy, and that fact only worsened his state right now as they became caught on a stray branch, the force instantly tearing them and sending him toppling over to the ground. Mud and dirt splashed up around him as he hit the floor of the forest hard, a snapping sound befalling his ears.

His brain had told him that it was just the branch breaking, but the pain in his right ankle told him different. It seared through his leg and back down again, forcing him to acknowledge that it was either badly strained or broken, and more than likely the latter.

Grimacing, he pushed himself up, ignoring the cold, sticky substance that he was now covered in. Tears of pain sprang to his eyes as he put weight on the limb, knowing that it would now be impossible to outrun his predator.

"Dammit!" he muttered in a hushed whisper, impelling himself to go forward. He felt the ground shake once more as lightning struck somewhere obviously close, the thunder proceeding it quickly. It rumbled through the treetops, vibrating through his ears as he held onto to each tree he passed for dear life, fearful of the footfalls that had now gotten terrifyingly close to him.

Edward knew he probably wouldn't make it much farther.

_Great, after everything I've worked so hard for...And now it'll be over before I know it..._

The impact of the person's hands hit him harder than he'd originally expected, their strength sending him straight back to the mud-covered ground. He rolled away from them, trying desperately to push himself up or crawl away, their voice at his feet.

"Why do you keep running, Ed? Why? I would never hurt you...that badly."

Edward could hear the precious breath he so desperately tried to suck in deflating his lungs at a rate seemingly faster than the speed of light, his eyes watering with the attempt. He felt his fingers dig into the earth, continuously sinking farther and farther down, unable to get a grip on anything.

"You can keep trying, but you're not going to get anywhere. I thought you of all people would know that, Ed," the voice without a face continued on, it so eerily familiar in the blonde's ears. "Besides, now that I've got you, why _would_ I let you go?" A light laugh followed the half-hearted question, and as the sound sunk in, Edward stopped struggling, his wide, golden orbs slowly tracing the shadow that fell upon him all the way to its origin.

And what he saw made his blood run cold; a hell of a lot colder than the chilly air that was now enveloping his body anyway.

The one word he was hanging on escaped his lips gradually, he so deathly afraid to confirm the thoughts that were racing through his jaded mind.

"Alphonse?" The pain in his eyes was clearly evident as he spoke, unaware of the fear that was also forcing his forehead to crease in disbelief. "Al...no..." His voice had dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, the pain that had been searing through his ankle completely forgotten about. Numbness surrounded him far and wide, spreading like a vast wasteland, consuming every thought of hope or faith he'd had.

The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was the too large rock coming down at him, and the deranged grin plastered upon his little brother's face, filled with utter hate and delight at the same time.

Thankfully, he awoke before he saw the blood that had painted Al's visage; bright crimson splashed upon a cream-colored canvas with soulless eyes.

&&&&&

Golden orbs opened to a sea of darkness, a trickle of moonlight filtering in between curtains that were flowing quietly with the gentle breeze that blew in through the open window, giving explanation for the reason why it was so damned cold in the room. It didn't help the fact that he had nearly drowned in his own sweat, his white t-shirt nearly see-through and sticking adamantly to his thin frame.

Edward let out a quiet sigh, pushing himself carefully from the cheap and barely usable sheets, trying desperately to forget the images that were still fresh in his mind as his automail clicked distantly in his ears. For some unexplained reason, he jumped at the sound of it, apparently startled by the sudden noise.

"Two years without it and look what's happened to me," he muttered with a sad smile as the former alchemist stood to his feet, the chill of the hardwood floor seeping through his flesh limb. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he walked over to the open window, shutting it as quietly as possible, not wanting to disrupt his younger brother's sleep.

But as he glanced over, he realized that the twin bed that sat not more than four feet away from his own, had not been slept in at all. The white sheets were carefully made, just as they had been before Edward had fallen asleep.

That could mean only one thing.

The blonde sighed as he made his way into the kitchenette area, his golden orbs falling upon the sight of his little brother fast asleep at the table, head placed uncomfortably on top of an open book with his mouth hanging open ever so slightly. Ed couldn't help but laugh at the light snores that were escaping the teenager's lips, or the small wet spot on the page below.

Just that fraction of a second helped him to push away the dream, even it would come back to him later on. He had his little brother, and that was all that mattered at the moment.

"Hey, Al," Edward whispered as he leaned over, smacking the boy's cheek lightly with his palm, flesh one, of course. "You're gonna be drowning in a minute if you don't wake up. Come on," he tried to urge the younger teen, only to earn a sleep-filled groan and an inaudible murmur from his little brother.

With a playful roll of the eyes, Ed gently pulled Alphonse up by his arms, struggling to steady the now taller of the two. Edward tried to ignore the height difference (even if it was only by three inches), thankful that Al was at least using his own two feet to get from one room to the other.

Just as he was about to help him onto the bed, Al's eyes cracked open slightly, staring straight into Ed's. A crooked smile parted the boy's lips, faint, purplish circles visible underneath his eyes in the last rays of moonlight that were slowly receding from the room.

"Brother, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep, his throat obviously dry. He shifted slightly as he let Ed guide him onto the creaking mattress, unconsciousness taunting his heavy eyelids, they closing ever so slightly before he forced them back open to look back up at his older brother.

"Getting you to bed. You fell asleep at the table again. You're gonna break your neck one of these days if you're not careful," the nineteen year old chided with a carefully placed smirk, his golden orbs glimmering as he stared into Al's gray ones.

"But...I wasn't finished yet. There's still so much research to do, Ed. So much that we don't know..." His voice was fading as his eyelids grew even heavier, sleep coming to reclaim him once again.

A tired smile gently turned up Ed's lips as he pushed back Al's hair, it falling back down through his fingers as he did so. "Shh, just rest, Al. I'll wake you in the morning," he whispered, pulling the flimsy sheets over Al's lanky frame. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, taking note of the time, his brow creasing slightly as he realized it was almost five o'clock.

"Looks like morning's already here," he muttered, standing back up, a twinge of dizziness haunting his eyes. His vision doubled temporarily before he regained his balance, inwardly thankful that the room had stopped spinning. Raising his head, he felt thin strands of hair slide across his cheeks as he blinked them out of his eyes, a deep breath easing out of his lungs.

Golden orbs searched the darkened room, locating the messy bed among the purple and blue spots that were still dancing politely in front of them. Carefully, Edward made his way over to it, sitting down on the edge while gripping the sheets for dear life, silently praying that he wouldn't somehow manage to fall to the floor.

A shiver traveled through his thin frame, goosebumps raising over his pale skin. His brow narrowed as he tried to think of a cause for the sudden bout of his inability to keep his balance, and then it occurred to him that he hadn't exactly been keeping up a healthy eating schedule as of late. Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten, which wasn't good, especially with the automail his body had to support.

They'd been traveling through Germany for the past two months, searching for the whereabouts of the atomic bomb that had somehow managed to break through to the other side of the Gate; and finding it was proving to be harder than they'd originally planned. Especially with the limited funds they'd managed to acquire.

Finding a place to stay wasn't exactly easy, judging the state that the economy was in; and being able to find affordable yet edible food was a trying task as well. They'd managed to scrounge up enough money from an account their father had more than obviously left for them, but what little they did have was starting to drain from their pockets, a fact that Edward tried so desperately to deny but knew to be true.

The two teens had managed to snag a room over a tavern for the past two nights, trying to recover from the highly uncomfortable train ride they'd sneaked onto in Wurzburg. They somehow wound up in Gera, though it was a far cry from their designated destination. In approximately three hours, they were supposed to catch a ride to Kassel, but only if they were able to get on undetected, a feat which was becoming harder and harder as security grew tighter and tighter.

They'd managed to uncover some information on a probable location of the bomb due to some careful yet dangerous eavesdropping in a small town near Stuttgart, which unbeknownst to Al nearly cost Ed his life.

Just the thought made the blonde shiver as sweat beaded on his forehead. He quickly wiped it away, the chilly air starting to seep through his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

The thought of just a few more minutes of sleep drifted through his mind, but he quickly pushed it away, knowing he had to prepare for the long day that awaited them.

He stood up slowly, this time careful to not let dizziness overtake him. As quietly as he could, the nineteen year old made his way into the tiny bathroom, nearly jumping out of his skin as a spider unwound its way down from the ceiling directly in front of his eyes. A very surprised gasp escaped his lips as redness poured across his pale cheeks in embarrassment.

"You can fight homunculi and survive automail surgery, but almost piss your pants when you see a spider?" the chiding mutter parted his lips, the young man shaking his head in disappointment. "Maybe Al's right. Maybe I am going soft. A spider. A _fucking_ spider." For some reason, he just couldn't rid the thought of being afraid of the eight-legged creature from his mind as he slid off his t-shirt and shorts and climbed into the shower, instantly feeling unintelligent once again for forgetting to let the water run before he climbed in. He'd learned the night before that the hot water wasn't exactly hot, and had Alphonse's laughter ringing through his head for the good amount of fifteen minutes before he pushed the younger boy in, fully clothed of course.

And he didn't mind the bruise on his arm for it one bit. Just getting the chance to see the look of seething anger plastered across Al's face was pleasure enough. He hadn't been able to do a thing like that since they were children.

He couldn't help but let a tiny grin pursue his lips as he turned on the water, memories of years past running before his golden orbs as the cold blast of rain hit his skin, gradually turning lukewarm but not quite hot.

Images of a nine year old version of himself and an eight year old Alphonse swam across his vision, with an equally young Winry in tow. They were all running as fast as they could, racing to see who could get to the Rockbell house first.

As he traced the memory in his mind, he could almost feel the fresh country air take up residence in his lungs, his chest burning with longing. The clear blue sky spread across his vision like a vivid tapestry, painting the walls of his mind with the beautiful color he had yet to experience or see this side of the Gate.

Their laughter flooded through his ears, sounding sweetly innocent as it drifted through the tall, green grass, giving off an almost ethereal glow as the sun shown down on it, illuminating it with its golden rays.

Edward could feel the ground at his feet; hear the wind rushing past his ears with such force he thought his eardrums just might pop. And faintly, ever so faintly, the chirping of birds overhead seemingly rooting them on.

It was a perfect day. Probably the last one he'd ever had.

The sound of the bathroom door crashing open and banging into the paint-chipped wall jarred him from the memory, it receding into the background of his mind. Ed immediately drew back the shower curtain, his eyes widening as the sight of a very bloody and extremely distraught Alphonse stood before him, looking visibly dazed and confused.

Fear surged through him instantaneously as he hurriedly grabbed the cheap towel that was provided for them and wrapped it around his thin waist, jumping out of the shower without even bothering to turn off the water. From the looks of things, he'd probably need it.

"Al! Al, what'd you do?" the golden blonde shouted, his voice raising with each word, concern laced within the confusion. With shaking hands, he cupped his younger brother's face with his fingers (careful of the metal ones), pinpointing the origin of the blood. His eyes traced the path of the crimson substance up Al's shirt and to his face, all the way to his nose where it had apparently come from, though it was hard for Ed to believe that that much blood could have originated from there.

"Brother, I was dreaming...about Resembool, and it was horrible. Winry—she was crying, and she was saying all these things about how she didn't have much time, and she was scared...And then there was an explosion, and that's when I woke up." He was quiet for a moment, trying desperately to push back the tears that haunted his eyes, and to make the shakiness in his voice go away, without much success. "There's blood all over the pillow," the eighteen year old managed to add before Edward silenced him.

"Be quiet a minute, Al!" the hushed snap reverberated through the tiny space, instantly making the younger of the two go still. The fear that had surged through Edward was slowly starting to dissipate, but it still decided to entangle itself within his veins, even as he cleared away the blood, courtesy of the now cold water from the shower.

Eyes the color of an overcast sky peered at the porcelain-skinned nineteen year old, taking in the vast array of scars and faint bruises that covered a fair amount of his exposed body, much to Al's disliking. The pale tint that shadowed his small frame didn't help matters any, especially with the fact that his ribs had become more visible over the previous months, a truth Alphonse was currently starting to process.

His brow narrowed in visible anger, a show of emotion Edward was presently ignoring as he continued to clean off the darkening substance, making sure to get every bit of the crimson that had been plastered to the taller one's face and neck. Nostalgia pricked at his skin as images of another day and time surfaced in his mind, though in that reality, the situation was reversed, and he was the one being attended to. A glimmer of remembrance watered his eyes, though the act was temporary, due to the sudden movement of his focus.

"Al, quit moving! I'll never get all this off if you keep backing away from me..." The blonde was quiet for a moment as he realized the act was voluntary, not liking the look in his little brother's eyes one bit. "What?" His voice had dropped in volume, so soft Alphonse almost didn't hear it.

"You're doing it again, Brother." The words evaporated from his mouth more quickly and angrily than he cared for, but he couldn't help it. He was pissed.

Edward's lips cracked into a lopsided smile, not sure of what to make of his little brother's sudden display of anger. "What are you talking about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, feeling as though he were about to be backed into a corner, silently praying it wouldn't be literally.

"You know what I'm talking about, Ed," Alphonse stated rather darkly, a storm seemingly brewing within his eyes. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about," he went on, poking the smaller teen in the chest, unable to shove away the anger that was fueling his actions.

Ed instantly backed away at the sudden touch, folding his arms across his bare chest as he did so. He wasn't liking this one bit, especially not the dangerous expression that was slowly creeping into Al's eyes. It looked so foreign, contrasting with the gentle innocence that was gradually fading into the distance of the grey pools that windowed his soul.

"No, _I_ don't know, _Al,_" Edward replied with a sarcastic edge, trying not to sound like the smart ass he knew he could be. "So why don't you tell me," he added, finding his body suddenly susceptible to the chill that had found its way into the bathroom, recalling that the only thing that covered him was a worn towel that had seen better days.

Alphonse advanced on him, forcing Ed to connect with the pea-green colored wall, bits of paint sticking to his still wet back. His brow furrowed in confusion, tremors snaking their way underneath his skin as he watched his younger brother come within inches of him; the nightmare that had taken place less than an hour before reminiscent in his golden orbs.

"You've stopped eating again." The tone could've been described as icy if not for the concern and hint of hurt that echoed throughout Al's voice, his words forcing a hallow feeling into the pit of Edward's stomach, making him more than uneasy.

"Don't start on me, Al!" he shot back, trying to sound more authoritative than fearful as he countered his little brother's anger. "We can't exactly afford feasts, you know," the mutter parted his lips, inwardly knowing he should be trying to calm the other teen instead of indulging in the argument, but part of him just couldn't have it that way.

"You've been lying to me!" the unexpected shout came, tears welling in the eighteen year old's jaded orbs, fists clenching at his sides. "You said that you were alright! But you're not! You're not!" He was screaming now, pain evident in the words that were being forced out of his vocal chords.

"Stop it, Al." The sentence couldn't even be heard underneath Al's shouts, a fact that inwardly frightened the older teen, but he knew he had to calm his little brother down sooner or later. "Stop it, Al," Ed tried again, only to be met with more shrill yells. "I said stop it, Alphonse!"

For some strange reason, those words drew silence from the disgruntled young man, though his eyes were still ablaze with fury; the same emotion that was present in the nightmare. Without a word, he continued to stare deep into Edward's eyes, the quiet intensity quite visible in his downcast orbs.

The only sound Ed could hear was the sound of his own heart beating, palpitating loudly in his ears, seemingly drowning out all other noise, regardless of whether it was actually there or not. Breath was easing in and out of his lungs rather hurriedly, giving off the illusion that he was wheezing, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop it.

His back hit the wall once more as Alphonse moved forward suddenly, their bodies almost connecting, though the younger teen drew back before contact was actually made. Confusion marked Ed's face as he watched his younger brother mentally contemplate something before turning away and exiting the room, a bit of blood still caked around his nostrils, leaving before Ed had the chance to clean it off.

The nineteen year old stood there for a moment, his hands still flat against the wall, feeling strangely powerless and utterly helpless as a deep breath escaped his lips, one he'd obviously been holding for more than just a second. Images from the dream flooded through his mind, the expression on Al's face haunting him, making him wonder if the nightmare would be like the other ones; insanity or reality.

As he stared at the bruise that was forming on his chest, Edward realized he wasn't so sure.

&&&&&

He couldn't count how many times he'd been there in the past two months. It was just somewhere he'd go now. No questions asked.

Gone were the nights where he'd disappear into the tavern on the corner, taking a seat at the bar, as he and Maes always used to. He'd order two drinks, though both would go untouched. Roy Mustang hadn't had a drink in over three months, probably the longest amount of time he'd ever gone without alcohol.

And for some strange reason, he had no idea why he'd stopped. Perhaps it was the fact that inwardly, he knew he didn't need it anymore.

He still had his nights when he'd be the only one left in the office, a much larger one now, albeit. He _was_ a general after all; meaning more paperwork, and therefore, more space to sign it in. But he'd managed to keep his subordinates, cordially thanking his higher ranking officer for the favor.

But when it came down to it; he was still alone, even after all this time.

His footsteps were precise, calculated; even.

_That's what ten years in the military will do to you..._ The thought ran around his head, the man sarcastic even with himself and nobody else around to hear.

His gloved hands were stuffed into the pocket of his military-issued trench coat, the dark navy material drifting about at his feet, billowing slightly in the chilly breeze that was blowing around him.

The pale moonlight was hidden behind several clouds tonight, somehow making the streets seem even more lonesome and deserted; but then again, it was near midnight, and with the new curfew they'd put into effect, he didn't really expect to see too many souls out anyway.

Central was rebuilding, and quickly at that. Most of the buildings that had been destroyed in the invasion were in the process of getting rebuilt, the majority of debris discarded. But they still had a long way to go before they were back to what they were before. The estimated time of clean up and restructuring was to take almost a year, if not more, and due to the fact that a new Fuhrer still had not been chosen, the process could take longer. A truth that the citizens didn't exactly want to hear.

_He'd have this place up and running in no time. _

The dark-haired man could feel chills resonate up his spine, and even though the temperatures were near the freezing mark, they didn't originate because of that.

The onyx-eyed man had known all along that the one he called Full Metal had been alive. It was just one of those things that no matter how many times someone had tried to tell him different, he couldn't believe them.

Or he wouldn't accept it.

He'd lost too many people to even try.

But his beliefs were confirmed, and even with the snide remarks they'd exchanged, he missed him. Hell, he never thought that he could actually miss someone that much, but it was true.

In a way, it was as though he'd lost a son; a son he never had. And probably would never.

In that moment, something made his eyes water, and as much as he tried to convince himself that it was just the bitter cold wind that was whisking past him, he knew it was a lie. A lie he'd tried to tell himself over and over again without success.

The man knew that Edward wasn't exactly a kid anymore; hardly at the age of eighteen..._Or is he nineteen now? _

A tiny smirk played across his tired features, recalling that the blonde had indeed turned nineteen just a few days before.

_You're getting old, Roy._

He laughed quietly to himself, hearing Maes jovial yet somehow serious voice stream through his thoughts.

God, how he missed him too.

_Dammit. _

The tears were there again, glistening underneath his eyes, though only one could be seen, rolling down his pale cheek in the glow of the street lights. He quickly wiped it away, angered at the fact that he'd let the damn thing escape.

He watched the breath spiral from his lips as he let out a sigh, running a shaky hand through his jet black locks as he did so.

_Get a hold of yourself. They're both gone now, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. _

His eyes narrowed at the thought, though somehow, he knew that wasn't the truth, at least not partially. There was still a way...

_You know better._

But the idea still circulated through his head, and he couldn't push it away, especially as he came closer to his intended destination.

Onyx orbs gazed up at the sky, one seeing the sporadic stars that were separated by the clouds, the other seeing a complete darkness, though one that was not rendered by its inability to see.

Even with the hopes of rebuilding and new construction, and the promise of new technology; there was a certain discernible uneasiness that had settled within the depths of the city. Hell, it could probably be suffice to say the entire State.

He'd been hearing rumors, and they weren't very joyous ones at that. Mustang had been told that they were just that, rumors; and not to be taken with a grain of salt, but something about the things that were passing through his ears stirred something within him. It was a fear that hadn't been unveiled since the War in Ishbal, and even though it had been laying dormant all these years since; the fact was that it was still there, ready to appear at any time.

Amestris hadn't always been peaceful, that much he knew. He'd lived through his share of turmoil and despair, seen the grotesque images that human beings weren't supposed to live through let alone see. And as much as he wanted to deny it, every time he heard the wind rustle past his ears, he swore he could hear whispers of warning, gentle voices telling him that something very wrong was about to happen.

And something was also telling him that there was no way in absolute hell he'd be able to get through it by himself. Of course, he wouldn't be standing on the front lines alone; there'd be others with him unfortunately. But there would also be someone that wouldn't. Someone that he knew he'd need in order to win, to defeat the enemy at hand.

And as much as he told himself that Full Metal would come running back without question, the young man couldn't just appear out of nowhere. After all, he was on the other side of the Gate, a complete other world away.

The air grew colder as he neared his routine spot, mist swirling up from the sewer system below.

He pulled the coat closer to him, his skin crawling with pins and needles, even though he was buried underneath layers of clothing and cottony material. The chill that found its way to him was internal, and no amount of clothing could protect him from it.

He peered around once more, taking in the sight of the broken Old District, the dilapidated buildings seemingly crumbling around him.

_And to think, they weren't even touched in the invasion. _

The sounds of the homeless met his ears; their hushed whispers, one man's drunken shouts, a woman's crying, a probable insane person singing. Their voices melded together, becoming a symphony of sadness and woe, filling the night air with their laments.

The dark-haired man couldn't help but shake his head, knowing there wasn't a thing in this world he could do to help those people. They'd stay there, haunting the Old District until they were either killed or perished on their own accord.

Taking in the street one last time, he made sure he wasn't being followed, for if anyone found him there, he'd more than likely be shot.

His onyx eye traced the outside of the establishment he was about to enter, the wave of routine irony washing over him yet again. Carefully, he made his way inside, taking one gloved hand out of his pocket and snapping his fingers, a small flame dancing on his fingertips. It didn't take long for him to find the staircase, descending down the steps one at a time, cautious not to fall.

He counted the stone stairs as he went, a habit he couldn't seem to break. The trip took him about ten minutes to complete, his finally tally coming to one hundred and forty-six.

_It's not going to change. You know that._

He paused at the last step, taking in the vast sea of buildings, all over four hundred years old. The Flame Alchemist couldn't help but stare at the sight, even though it was probably the fiftieth time he'd seen it. It was still an amazing yet terrifying image to take in.

_Not even one. Not one soul survived. And no one remembers. _

A strange sense of anger tugged at his nerves, forcing his brow to furrow as he started walking. His footfalls were faster this time, not paced perfectly as the ones before had been.

And as he made his way closer to the edge of the city, he found what he was looking for; the alchemic array that gave the Elric brothers safe passage to the other side of the Gate.

He just didn't have the heart to destroy it.

_There's always the possibility..._

**Author(ess) note : Hello, everyone. I am so sorry for taking so long to get this one up and running. I've been bogged down by just about everything you can think of, so time's just been a passing thing as of late. I'd like to take the time to thank everyone that reviewed the last chapter of "Whispers of a Nightmare." You all have been too kind to me, and I only hope that you'll enjoy this one as well. Hopefully, it wasn't too out there. **

**And I just want to say that Al is not the bad guy; but there is going to be PLENTY of angst between the two brothers so...BE PREPARED. :p **

**Oh, and I really didn't like the fact that they were stating that he was three or four years younger than Ed just because of the time his body was in the Gate; because IMO, he's still a year behind Ed so that's how I'm going to write him, even if his body isn't that of an eighteen year old's. Not yet anyway.**

**Hope you liked it, and an update should be coming soon. ; )**

**Haunted Obsidian**


	2. Reality's Facade

**Title : Drowning in the Abyss**

**Genre : Anime/Manga**

**Category : Full Metal Alchemist**

**Disclaimer : I am in no way affiliated with the fine people who created the show or manga but am grateful for it nonetheless. **

**Summary : It appears that traveling through the Gate affected Alphonse more than Edward ever knew. Sequel to Whispers of a Nightmare. Post movie.**

**Chapter 2 : Reality's Facade**

Various degrees of grey painted the sky, the absence of the sun making the temperatures feel cooler than the fifty digits that they actually were.

It looked as though it could rain at any time, a threat Edward hoped would hold off until they at least made it on to the train; _if_ they made it that far.

Guards were laced throughout the commuters and travelers, a hell of a lot more than when he'd first come to this side of the Gate. Apparently, with the threat of another uprising, security had been boosted around the country, making the chances of going undetected near zero.

The nineteen year old sighed as he glanced down at his watch, it stating that it was almost time for their train to depart, but he only had one problem. Alphonse was no where in sight, a fact that inwardly agitated him to no end. The eighteen year old knew what time they were supposed to leave, though insisted he had to use the restroom before they went.

He'd been gone for ten minutes and counting, and as the seconds ticked by, Edward's sanity slowly did as well.

"Did he fall in?" he muttered to himself, glancing back up from his timepiece only to see his little brother standing directly in front of him, his body involuntarily jumping for the second time that day. He was about to open his mouth in defense of the visible tremor, chiding Al for sneaking up on him like that, but cut himself short at the expression on Alphonse's face. The look of silent anger forced his lips to stay shut momentarily.

A quick, yet fierce silence swept between them, their eyes doing all the talking as the seconds passed by. Finally, Edward spoke, making sure to ignore the voice in the back of his head that was repeatedly telling him not to piss off his little brother anymore for the day.

"Where'd you go?" the former State Alchemist questioned, a little too sharply for Al's interest.

"I went to get us something to eat," the taller of the two responded, anger apparent in his edgy tone as he held up a small, brown paper bag.

"Since when do you have any money?" Edward inquired, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the bag, it holding more than what they normally could afford.

"You're not the only one who's self-sufficient, Ed. Some of us know how to do things on our own just fine," Al replied in a tone Edward couldn't quite identify. If it wasn't for the seemingly dark smile that turned up the younger of the two's lips, his words could've been taken as serious, though sarcasm eventually won out in Ed's mind.

"Right, well, we'd better get going. We don't have much time." The nineteen year old's voice was much softer than it normally was, a silent fear creeping up in the back of his mind. He couldn't quite understand why, but for some reason, he felt as though he had to be careful of his words now; something he never had to worry about before. But something about the way Al was currently acting forced him to think before he acted, a feat he hadn't quite been able to accomplish before.

Things had definitely not been going as he'd originally planned, that was for sure. For one thing, Edward didn't expect to be walking on eggshells around his little brother, but then again, he never expected to have that dream either.

And as much as he tried to push it from his thoughts, he couldn't rid the disturbing images from his thoughts, the eerie look on Al's face in the dream resurfacing. Ed couldn't help but glance at the eighteen year old, his golden orbs tracing the hardened expression in the young man's eyes. There was a major difference in the way they looked now, and how they had just two months before.

_Or have they always looked like that and I was just too blind to notice? _

Of course, they had both changed; that was only normal with age. But lately, there had been an air of anger that seemingly surrounded the younger of the two. His brow was always creased, looking as though he shouldn't be crossed. And even the color in his eyes appeared to have changed, the grey deepening almost to the point of charcoal.

_His voice is so deep now..._

Ed wanted to smile at the thought, at the fact that his little brother was actually growing up, and that he had the chance to see it. But at the moment, it was looking as though the change was for the worse instead of the better.

The more he thought about it, the more instances came to mind of the change in behavior. Al's willingness to do whatever it took to get their mission accomplished; the determination that he had wasn't what worried Ed. It was the recklessness, the recklessness that he himself possessed for longer than he could recall, and he knew they both couldn't survive long living that way.

A sigh escaped his lips as his eyes wandered to the crowd that was slowly boarding the train, checking his watch once more before he led Alphonse past them, in search of the cargo car.

"What?" The eighteen year old hadn't exactly meant for the word to come out so sharply, but it had, thus giving him reason to furrow his brow and clench his jaw, knowing that somehow, it had hurt Ed.

"Nothing," the older of the two replied back, an uneasiness in his tone as well as in his body language. His golden orbs automatically counted the number of cars as they continued to walk past them, all the while knowing that the cargo cars would be in the very back, the passengers obviously more important than the freight.

"Don't treat me like I'm an idiot, Ed. What's the problem?" Alphonse inquired, his questioning eyes narrowing further as he hurried to keep up with his smaller brother's quick strides.

"We're being watched," Edward stated between tightly gritted teeth, glancing at the guard who was holding a keen eye on the two young men, not letting them out of his sight.

"By who?" His voice came out in a confused, hushed whisper, his grey eyes scouring through the gobs of people to see a single guard staring them both down, the older man's face turned up in a scowl. Alphonse couldn't help but scowl back, feeling strangely intimidated by the man. "So what are we going to do?" he forced out the question, though his mind was already turning with possibilities.

"I'm not sure yet," Ed muttered, his brain still contemplating their next move. "We could always take a later train, but then that would put us behind. We were supposed to be in Kassel by tonight, but if we take the two o'clock, we won't be there until tomorrow." His golden orbs were narrowed in thought, but before he could come up with something, he was being dragged across the platform, Alphonse's hand tightly gripping the loose materials that made up his clothes. "What are you doing? Are you nuts?" Ed's voice started to rise, seeing that his little brother was leading him directly onto the train. "We don't have tickets," he muttered through a clenched jaw into Al's ear, angered at the fact that he had to stand on tiptoe in order to reach it.

"I _know_ that, Brother," the eighteen year old responded through an equally tightened jaw, a piece of Edward's coat still laced tightly between his fingers.

"Then can you please tell me what you think you're doing? We're going to get _caught_," Ed stated, worry obvious in his tone, actually feeling like the older brother for once.

_Wait, what am I saying?_

"Just trust me, Ed," Al conceded, pulling Edward down the isle, trying desperately not to knock into anyone as he did so.

"What are you doing?" the nineteen year old's eyes widened as his little brother led him from one car to the next, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"_Trust_ me," Alphonse repeated, turning his head back ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips, it reaching all the way up to his mischievous eyes.

"Right," Ed mumbled, suddenly feeling somewhat reassured, as though everything was going to be alright; even if there was the chance that it wouldn't be.

Within seconds, he found out he was right.

"_Anhalten_(1)! Stop those two!" a shout came from behind. "They've boarded the train without tickets!" the same voice howled directly into the young mens' ears.

Edward turned back, seeing the face of the guard who'd been watching them, the man's visage coming closer and closer in his vision, his piercing blue eyes burning right into Ed's.

"Whatever you're doing, you'd better hurry up and do it. We don't have much time!" Edward stated in a hurried rush, his gloved hand now clutching Al's sleeve tightly, not giving himself the chance of letting go.

"Hold on." Alphonse's voice was low but confident as he opened the next car door, a blast of cold air hitting them both in the face, blowing their hair astray.

Before Ed could utter a word, he felt himself being pulled once again, his body flying right along with his brother's over the side of the train.

He was right. Al really was trying to kill him.

&&&&&

He sighed as he laid the keys down on the table next to the door, sliding his trench coat off as he did so. Tossing the heavy material aside onto the modest looking sofa, he made his way into the kitchen, undoing the buttons on the jacket of his uniform.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he took note of the time, knowing that he needed to get _some_ sleep if was supposed to be meeting with the construction committee in a few hours.

_That'll make six hours in three days. Maybe tomorrow you'll get four,_ the onyx-eyed man thought sarcastically to himself, a smirk crossing his lips.

Insomnia had become his best friend as of late, and for what reason, he had no clue. Perhaps, he was still too wound up after the invasion; or quite possibly, it was because of the dreams he'd been having.

They had started in early January, and hadn't let up since. And it was always the same thing, over and over again. It began with him having a conversation with Hughes, only as time progressed, he noticed there was something radically different with the man yet it was subtle enough that he hadn't realized at first. Then before his onyx eyes, the man's appearance started to change. The Maes he knew transformed, the color of his eyes darkening to a disturbing shade of lifeless violet; and his hair seemed to darken as well, going jet black within seconds.

And right before it all ended, Maes thanked him for "a wonderful job," before raising his hand back to strike the unarmed Mustang. He always awoke before the blow hit him.

Absentmindedly, he reached up, opening the only cupboard that actually had something in it, alcohol, no less. He extracted a bottle from it, and a glass from another near-empty compartment. He watched the brownish liquid rain down into the tumbler, twirling like a whirlwind as it connected with the bottom, a few drops splashing over the sides.

The raven-haired man lifted the glass to his lips, inhaling its alcoholic fumes, but paused before it could reach his tongue.

"_If something ever happens to me, I want you to promise that you'll watch after Gracia for me," the drunken words poured from the hazel-eyed man's mouth. _

"_Will you quit with that already? You're acting like you're going somewhere or something." Roy shrugged off the his friend's plea with a lopsided smirk, the spirit of alcohol dancing in his ebony orbs._

"_Look, I'm being serious here," Maes semi-snapped, his words slurring near the end of the statement, causing both of the men to double over in inebriated laughter, Mustang almost spilling the last bit of his drink on his lap. "Seriously, Roy," Hughes started again after he had wiped his eyes, involuntary tears attempting to spill down his cheeks. "I know I've got a desk job and all, but..."_

"_If anyone should be worried about not coming home, it's me," Roy stated, pointing and poking himself in the chest, drops of whiskey staining his uniform. _

"_Well, if you'd ever get yourself a good wife...I hear there's this cute blonde that's got a thing for you. Yeah," he went on, knowing he was pushing the Lt. Colonel's buttons. "Cinnamon colored eyes, got a thing for mini-skirts too!" Laughter continuously flooded from his mouth as he slapped his hand down on the bar, the vibration causing Roy's glass to tumble directly onto his lap, the brown substance already making its way down his pants leg. And all he could do was laugh as well, too drunk to care._

Hearing the other man's laughter in his head, he sat down the glass, his hand shaking as he did so.

The sound of someone knocking on his door pulled him away from the now faded images, a hint of a smile still left on his lips. He checked the time once more, knowing full and well that no one knocked on his door at three o'clock in the morning, especially not since his return to Central.

Setting the glass down on the bare kitchen table, he made his way into the living room, carefully removing his gloves from the pocket of his coat. With them on and his middle finger and thumb ready to incinerate whoever was standing on the other side of the door, Roy slowly unlocked it, quite surprised at who was waiting for him.

Cinnamon colored eyes stared directly into his, piercing the onyx that seemed impenetrable.

"Sir?"

The moment he heard her voice, he knew there was something wrong, no matter how hard she tried to hide it with her authoritative tone. It contained fear, an emotion that they were supposedly incapable of showing. He studied her before speaking, taking in the fact that even though it was the middle of the night, her hair was still up and safely fastened, just as it had been when she'd left the office.

But her blonde locks were tainted with tiny particles of ice, the snow now falling gently around her. Her cheeks were the color of a red rose, far surpassing the pinkish tint they normally held, with all due thanks to the cold weather.

She was wrapped tightly within the confines of her own trench coat, the ends of it being picked up by the wind and whirling around her feet; but she didn't shiver. It was as though it went right through her, the woman numb to the cold.

Mustang opened the door a little wider, nodding for her to come in. Whatever she had to say was obviously important, and it was too damned cold for her to just keep standing there.

"So what brings you to my humble establishment at this hour?" he questioned with a smirk, Hughes' face all but gone from his onyx orbs, though the deceased man's voice still echoed through his head.

Hawkeye kept her head bowed for a minute, as though she were contemplating what to say. She _had_ rehearsed it, of course, the whole way to the General's apartment; but now that she was standing there, the chill of the night dripping off of her, she was almost afraid to say it.

Roy's brow creased at this, not liking the uncomfortable silence that was now hovering between them. With an unsure gaze, he watched as she cleared her throat, her cinnamon colored eyes reaching up to his once again. And the deeper he looked into them, he could see that he was indeed right, and that there was something haunting them, forcing her voice to waver slightly as she began to speak.

"Sir, I have some rather...disturbing information," Hawkeye stated, her gentle but fierce orbs pleading to let out the words she so desperately wanted to say.

"Go on," the raven haired man ordered, his posture stiffening as he watched the woman hesitate in speaking.

"Sir," she began, finding it utterly trying to look him in the eye without any plausible reason why. "A report has just surfaced from Liore." She paused again, though only momentarily, just to lick her wind-chapped lips. "Last night, what is to believed to be a homunculus was seen wondering the streets."

&&&&&

"Do you see them?" the guard with the crystalline blue eyes and snow white hair questioned the other guard beside him, peering over the edge of the train.

"Nein(2)," the younger man replied, holding onto his hat as the wind howled between them, gusting at a rate that could easily blow either of the two men off if they weren't careful. "Just one of their scarves," the brown haired one muttered, pulling the woolly material from the side railing, wrapping it around his own shoulders. "How do I look?" he joked to the other man, but the older one would have nothing of it.

"Get back to work," he barked, glancing at the side of the train one last time before retreating back inside.

&&&&&

He could barely speak through the amount of air that was currently passing through his lungs, but managed to let a few words escape from his wind-blasted lips.

"Al! What are you doing?" he cried out, watching in terror as he and his little brother hung from the side of the train.

"Getting us a free ride, Brother!" Alphonse shouted back, struggling quietly as he climbed the ladder that led to the top of the train, all the while making sure his grip on Edward was secure.

"Well, hurry up then!" Ed yelled back, the eighty-mile per hour wind whipping past his face, blowing his golden locks askew. He glanced back down, his heart racing as the tracks flew past him, making him realize just how pathetic he must have looked, just dangling along side the locomotive.

"Almost...there," Al stated, pulling himself up and hoisting Edward along side of him, the wind nearly knocking the smaller of the two off.

"Al!" Ed chided in frustration, his metal fingers clasping his younger brother's coat so tightly he almost ripped a hole in it.

"Sorry, Ed. It's not my fault you're so light that the wind just blows you away!" the darker-haired young man retorted, turning his head back to catch a glimpse of the angered look that was currently getting blown off Edward's face.

"Very funny," Edward muttered, crawling behind his younger brother, holding onto any solid substance he could get his hands on.

"What? It's not like it's the first time you've climbed on top of a train before, Brother!" Alphonse continued, knowing he was pushing Ed's buttons, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. "You used to do it all the time back home, remember?"

"That was different, Al! And you know it! I had a reason for doing it!" the shorter of the two responded, anger mixed with a touch of annoyance racing through his golden orbs as the wind continued to whirl past him. And the dropping temperatures weren't helping any.

"Yeah, well, so do I," the eighteen year old stated simply, making his way to the back car, carefully lowering himself down the ladder that led to the car door.

"Is that right? And what reason is that? 'Cause I sure as hell don't see any men with guns or—Ah!" the cry parted the older of the two's lips, his grip slipping just as he was about to reach for the safety of Al's hand. He could feel his small body nearly being lifted from the steel that was underneath of him, his limbs scurrying about as they tried to find something stable to clasp onto.

"Ed!" Alphonse shouted, his voice breaking as he reached out for his older brother, watching helplessly as Edward tumbled backward on top of the train, banging his right shoulder into the metal roof of the moving machine. Al grimaced as he heard the two metallic objects connect, knowing Ed had gotten it the worst out of the two.

Without a second thought, Alphonse pulled himself back up on top of the train, his heart beat resounding in his ears as he made his way towards his fallen brother who had managed to catch one of the side rails on the train, though his hold was slipping; and by the pain that was now plastered across Ed's face, Al knew he had to get to him fast.

"Next time," Ed started through clenched teeth, his brow narrowed in pain and frustration. "We're taking a later train. Even if it puts us behind!"

Alphonse chose to ignore the smart remark, knowing he'd have a few of his own any second now. He quickly reached his hand out, wrapping his fingers around Ed's left wrist, pulling him gently but firmly back up to his feet.

"Looks like you've lost your touch, Brother." There it was, and he knew it. But at the moment, he didn't care. He still had to get them inside that damned car, and as he glanced back at Edward to make sure he was alright, his brow furrowed, a tunnel coming into view. "Oh no...Ed, come on!" he shouted, jerking the smaller of the two forward.

"What the—Ow! Al! What now?" Ed shouted, nausea stirring in his stomach as the pain in his right arm surged through the rest of his body. When he didn't receive a response, he turned back, his eyes widening as the stone tunnel grew larger in his vision, and it was coming closer with every second that passed. "Well what are you waiting for? Go!" he shouted, pretending that the pain that was jolting the right side of his body wasn't there as he pushed Alphonse with his left.

The eighteen year old disregarded the constant shoving and pushing of Ed's hand into his kidney, hurriedly making his way back to the ladder, this time making sure that his older brother's hand was tightly clutched within his.

Edward looked back in horror as a shadow fell upon his feet, the tunnel within yards of his weary form.

"Al!" It was the only thing he could think of to scream as he closed his eyes, preparing for the impact.

Seconds went by. Then a few more. Finally, he realized the wind wasn't rushing past him with hurricane like force anymore. Slowly, golden orbs met eyes the color of the overcast sky, a steady silence drifting between them.

The contact was lost as Alphonse turned, sliding open the car door, politely dragging Edward in behind him. Quickly, he pulled it shut, thankful that that whole escapade was over. Hell, he was exhausted.

He sighed as he sat down, setting their belongings down at his feet. The eighteen year old let his head fall back, propping it against the wall, preparing for the eight hour ride that awaited them; but his eyes quickly opened again upon hearing the hushed grunt of pain that emanated from Edward's slightly trembling lips.

The nineteen year old was hunched over in the opposite corner, his left hand gripping his right shoulder tightly, hurt clearly painted on his pale visage, even though he was trying desperately to hide it.

"Brother?" the faint word left Al's lips, concern written across his forehead as he sat up, leaning closer to the smaller figure.

"I'm fine, Al. Just get some rest." His voice was soft, taking on the tone it had earlier that morning, almost to the point of being inaudible. Strands of gold hung in his face, a few more falling loose from his ponytail as his small body spasmed, pain electrocuting his nerves.

"It has to be put back in, doesn't it?" the question parted Alphonse's lips, his voice almost as subdued as Ed's. He clenched his jaw, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Edward responded with a hint of a nod, his voice still almost too hushed to hear. His left hand shook as he placed it on the top of the artificial limb, preparing himself for the excruciating pain that was about to befall him.

"Do you want me to help?" Al prodded, inwardly not really wanting to do it, knowing how badly it hurt his older brother.

Ed promptly shook his head, golden bangs falling further into his face, hiding the golden orbs that were full of held back tears, too proud to let them fall in front of his younger sibling. "I got it," he murmured, his hand beginning to shake even more.

Alphonse wanted to understand. He knew how stubborn and independent Ed could be, no matter what the situation; but for the life of him, he couldn't disregard the anger that was intently bubbling underneath his skin.

Sure, he could be the same way; refusing help when it was plainly needed, attempting to do whatever needed to be done on his own. But at the moment, the more and more he thought about Ed telling him no, it pissed him off to no end, his scraped fists opening and closing at his sides.

"You know, Ed, you don't have to do everything on your own. There is a reason why I decided to come with you. And it wasn't just to sit here and watch," Al let the words tumble out of his mouth, a bitter taste left on his tongue. He knew he shouldn't have said it, at least, not at that moment, but he just couldn't help it. The anger was continuing to build, whether he liked it or not.

"Not now, Al," Edward muttered, fearful that his teeth were about to break as he tightened his already clenched jaw even more. Closing his eyes, he shrugged off his coat, wincing as the signal for pain was sent through his fake limb and throughout his nerves, the urge to regurgitate still threatening his stomach.

"Then when is a good time?" the exclamation left the young man's mouth, his eyes flaring with anger. "Why can't you just admit that you need my help? It wouldn't kill you to say it," he added underneath his breath, though the message still rang loud and clear in Edward's ears.

The nineteen year old was silent as he unbuttoned his white t-shirt, carefully undoing them one at a time, already feeling the cold air hit him straight in the chest. Shutting out the glare that was coming at him from across the traveling car, he pulled the shirt off, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his right arm dangling from the metallic port.

He closed his golden orbs again and took in a deep breath, knowing there was no careful way to do what he had to do. It only took a second to push the limb back into its port, but the pain that followed didn't fade as quickly. Ed couldn't help but let out a cry of pain, the tears he tried so badly to keep within the confines of his eyes rolling hastily down his cheeks. He sat there motionless for a moment, feeling the sweat follow, it gingerly sliding down his forehead and onto his brow.

Alphonse stared at him for a long moment, fighting back his own tears, biting his bottom lip until he tasted blood, only stopping when he realized he had broke through the tender skin. With a roll of the eyes (to help push back the tears), he sat back again, feeling the cool metal of the car on his scalp.

"I'm sorry, Al," Ed muttered, glancing up through the stringy strands of hair that were still in his face, his gut still tied up in knots. When he didn't receive a reaction, he went back to the chore of redoing his shirt, a feat in itself as tiny shards of pain danced up and down his right side, reminding him that his arm was going to be sore for quite some time. And if it got any colder, the pain would only grow worse.

Silently, he wiped the escaped tears from his face, feeling awful for the scene that had just taken place. And even though he knew there wasn't really anything he could do about it, he could still feel the knife in his heart, twisting and turning as he watched Alphonse gradually slide down onto his side and curl up into a fetal position, his back turned to the former State Alchemist.

He shook his head and slowly laid down as well, already not liking how their time together was turning out. And as the long silence rested between them once again, he could almost swear that he heard a sniffle from the other side of the car, but as his golden orbs drifted shut, he passed it off as just another noise that came from the train as it swiftly traveled over the tracks.

(1)Stop

(2)No

**Author(ess) note : I am so sorry for taking so long to update everyone; and I'm even sorrier for not taking the time out to reply to those of you who reviewed. I really, really appreciate everyone that did review, and I will do better to respond in the future. But I do have a decent excuse this time. ; ) My sister's getting married in a few days and only told me last week, so I've been scrambling to get everything together, and basically have been away from the internet since she told me so...:D**

**Well, I hope you all liked the chapter, and I THANK YOU for your support, especially Roy-Fan-33(I could never leave out Roy, and yes, he's going to have a nice slice in this story:D), Jchrys(you don't know how much I missed hearing from you ;), Bloody Sword Alchemist (thank you so much for your kind words, and I promise I'll get around to reading TBWCW), Legendary Chimera (thank you so much for coming back, and trust me, there's plenty of angst to go around:D), Harryswoman (thank you as well for returning, and no, there won't be any Noah), Dark Amber112 (Thank you so, so much. Your kind words really made my day;), queenstrudel (thank you, and I can't wait to see where it's going myself. I have a pretty good idea though;), Shattered Mirror01 (I'm so glad that you like it!;), Pink Pagoda (thank you, and yes, tons of angst, and hopefully a little more action too;), marufu-chan (thanks so much, and I'm glad you're back:D), HitsugayaAngel (I hated to see the anime end, so I felt I had to continue it somehow;), Dark Mage Makai (thank you so much for coming back, and I promise, I'll try not to disappoint:), Very Swampeh (yeah, there'll be use of the gate; and thanks for the review:D).**

**Thanks to everyone who put me on an alert or list as well. Hope this chapter sufficed:)**


	3. Watching the Blood Wash Away

**Title : Drowning in the Abyss**

**Genre : Anime/Manga**

**Category : Full Metal Alchemist**

**Disclaimer : I am in no way affiliated with the fine people who created the show or manga but am grateful for it nonetheless. **

**Summary : It appears that traveling through the Gate affected Alphonse more than Edward ever knew. Sequel to Whispers of a Nightmare. Post movie.**

**Chapter 3 : Watching the Blood Wash Away**

The word _homunculus_ swirled through his head faster than any flame he could ever throw, traveling down his throat and racing straight to his stomach, making him feel as though he'd just been kicked. He tried not to struggle with his words, though his tongue was teetering on the edge of deceive, threatening to force his polished vocabulary straight to hell.

A sinking feeling arose in his mid-section, anger starting to flood through his bloodstream. After everything they had fought so hard for, after all the trouble they had went through to rid Amestris of those damn creatures before—_after I lost a fucking eye—_and now this?

As soon as he could feel his chest starting to rise and fall with the hatred that had been laying dormant within the confines of his soul for the past few years, he cut it all short, inwardly knowing that showing any sign of disdain would ultimately label him as weak; a word he'd hated as long as he could remember.

"How do we know that what was seen was actually a homunculus?" he asked, the coolness in his tone making up for the narrowed brow that crossed his pale visage.

She looked almost hesitant to answer, her cinnamon colored orbs darting first to the hardwood floor then back up into his ebony ones. "The witnesses were able to give a fairly vivid description of the individual in question, and all agreed on the finished composite. But herein lies the problem, sir. The man that they identified was murdered approximately two weeks ago in Liore." She paused for a moment, going over the information that was given to her by HQ in her head, praying that she didn't stutter or stumble over the words. She continued when she realized the look of impatience that was blazing through Roy's eyes.

"His name is Alexander von Sont, or better known as the Damning Alchemist." She was quiet for a moment, inwardly knowing that Roy knew the man; perhaps not personally, but he _had_ worked with him. As though silently asking the man for permission to continue, she did when she saw the dark-haired man give a small nod, urging her to go ahead.

"As you probably know, sir, he retired soon after the war in Ishbal, choosing to live a more quiet life instead of the one he led with the military. He hadn't been heard of again until two weeks ago, when his body was found in the Industrial District of Sherman." The blonde woman was quiet once more as the cause of his death relayed through her mind. "He had been cut open from the groin area all the to his throat. All of his internal organs had been removed."

"And why haven't I heard about this until now?" There was anger in the man's voice as his raven-like eyes glimmered, his brow furrowing further.

"Apparently, sir, it was kept under wraps due to the severity of the murder; and also to control the populace. The Assembly didn't want another uproar, especially so soon after the invasion." She started to speak again, but cut herself short, already seeing the man's lips start to twitch.

"Under wraps?" The questioning look in his eyes was more than present, a touch of bitterness laced within his tone. "In case they've forgotten, anything that concerns alchemy or an alchemist, for that matter, must be ran through with us." The man was silent as he went over his options: remain cool and collected, and hold an audience with The Assembly in the morning; or stay pissed, retain a vehicle, and drive on over to the main members' residences and tell them off.

Taking in a deep breath, he realized that the former would probably be the better choice of the two, no matter how much he would have liked to do the latter.

"So we have a dead man walking the streets of Liore, and an alchemist, no less," Roy stated, more to himself than Hawkeye. "Did anyone report the body missing?" the inquiry tumbled off his lips, disbelief still heavy in his tone.

"No, especially since his funeral was held last week," she replied, finding strength in his determination. God, how she'd missed that for two years.

"I'm assuming they're checking the burial site?" He'd already known the answer to that, but for some reason, couldn't help but ask the question.

"As we speak, sir. We should know within the next four to five hours what their findings are," she concluded, the rose color slowly fading off her cheeks.

There was a contained silence that drifted between them for a moment, but the General chose to break it, another query on his mind.

"Were there any markings on him? Anything that resembled the sign of the Ouroborus?" _If it truly was a homunculus, then it would've had to have been located on the creature somewhere,_ the thought paraded around his mind, though secretly, he was just trying to convince himself that perhaps this was just a stupid hoax. The tricks kids and apprentice alchemists were playing nowadays..._Yeah, right._

"That information I can't confirm, sir," she responded, her voice strong and composed, even at such a late hour. Her brow narrowed for a second as an odd thought crossed her mind. "If the man didn't carry such a mark..."

"Then God only knows what we're dealing with," he said with a smirk, turning away from her and entering the kitchen once more.

Riza stood there, unsure of what to do. Even though she wasn't anywhere near HQ, she still felt the need to treat Mustang with the utmost respect and authority, even if he didn't honestly give a damn. An eyebrow arched as the familiar word left her lips. "Sir?"

"It would be probable for me to assume that you haven't had any sleep either, right?" he inquired, glancing back in the living room for an answer.

"No, I haven't," she stated, slowly sliding her coat off and draping it across the couch as his was. Her military garbs were still firmly pressed, not an incorrect crease in sight.

He wondered how she did it. His were seemingly wrinkled after an hour.

"Then it would also be probable for me to conclude that you'd want some coffee as well?" he asked, already preparing the caffeinated substance.

"Yes, thank you," Riza answered, her tone as formal as ever. She quietly made her way into the kitchenette area, leaning against the counter as he brewed the chocolate-colored liquid, folding her arms across her chest.

"You know, one day, you might learn to call me Roy," the words left his lips so casually he almost didn't realize he had spoken them.

The rose color immediately flooded back over her cheeks, the blush more than apparent to the Flame Alchemist. She cleared her throat, trying desperately to ignore the heat that was searing across her face. Riza attempted to counter his statement, but the damage had already been done, and all she could do was bow her head in embarrassment.

A small, victorious grin crept across his visage, inwardly knowing he had struck a chord. Somehow, he couldn't resist adding on just a little more. Although, he knew she was more than likely enjoying the whole damn thing, whether she owned up to or not.

"You know, during the time you were nursing me back to health, you wore your hair down. Why don't you anymore?" The smug look was still plastered mischievously across his features, his eyes gleaming deviously as he removed two coffee mugs from the cupboard.

Raising her head, she stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to say. Even if the sky was falling, he's somehow find a way to make her smile; even if she was scared to death.

"It amazes me, sir, how cavalier you can be at times." She made sure she worded her statement right, using just the right tone that sounded playful yet serious at the same time, not wanting to draw ire from the dark-haired man.

"Well, judging the fact that there's nothing I could possibly do right now to rectify whatever situation is at hand, I figured enjoying a hot cup of coffee with one of my subordinates at a late-night hour would be alright. Unless you have any objections, that is."

And he knew she wouldn't. At least, not tonight anyway.

&&&&&

Smoke threaded through the sky like a war-torn blanket, the light grey substance contrasting greatly with the dark charcoal color that flowed above it. The two colors were moving in different directions, immediately making it clear that something was inevitably wrong.

Below the storm-filled clouds, the earth was silent, for the moment. Though evidence of uncertainty was whispering in the sporadic gusts of wind that blew through what was left of the trees.

The shadow of the sky fell upon the ground, shrouding the quiet chaos and debris that littered the city; and the blood.

The moment he opened his eyes, he knew all hell had broken loose, and there wasn't a damn thing he could've done to prevent it.

The scent of iron burned his nostrils as he took in a deep breath, nearly gagging at the smell. His right hand immediately shot to his stomach, and as he peered down, he saw why.

The dark crimson liquid stuck to his fingers, staining them with the substance that was supposed to be flooding through his veins, but was instead leaking out of him at a rate too fast for his liking.

Panic seized his chest, the teenager not understanding what was going on, and why the hell he was bleeding so badly. With trembling hands, he peeled away the white cottony material of his shirt, a gaping wound staring back at him. A surprised cry left his lips, his grey eyes dancing with fear.

"No...wait, no—Brother! Brother!" the shout pierced the eerily silent street, locks of the young man's light brown hair being blown askew by the dry air. He stumbled as he took in his surroundings, the only thought on his mind being his older brother.

Pain shot through his side as he half-walked, half-jogged, desperately trying to find Edward through the crumbling buildings and debris-caked streets.

His gunmetal orbs darted around, dizziness threatening to confiscate his vision. Slowly, they locked onto something, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

The teen's steps came to a standstill after he realized the noise beneath his feet was the sound of his shoes stepping in something disgustingly squishy; and as his gaze met the ground, the substance became clear.

Alphonse's reflexes kicked in, his foot jerking back automatically as his brain processed the fact that his boot was now covered in blood, someone else's at that. His mouth froze in a crooked line of horror as his eyes traced the river of crimson to its originator; a little girl, appearing to be around the age of five, a bloodied and dirty teddy bear clutched tightly in her right tiny hand. Or rather, what was left of it.

She was covered in blood, her sun-bleached hair so saturated in the substance it looked red; her pallid face the canvas to a coral painting, splashes of scarlet littering her cheeks and forehead. Her pale blue eyes shown through the vast sea of ruby, staring blankly up at the brooding sky, while her tiny mouth was wide open, flies buzzing around her lips.

From the neck down, her body had seemingly been shredded, her limbs laying helplessly slack at her sides. In some places, it looked as though her skin had been chewed off, leaving gaping wounds all across her small body.

A terrified cry escaped his lips, the force of the image sending him backwards and into the dust-covered earth, vomit readily seeking its way out of his throat. After he had emptied the contents of his stomach for the forth or fifth time, he shakily pushed himself up, ignoring the involuntary tears that were spilling down his cheeks.

"Brother! Edward!" he screamed, taking off in the opposite direction, just wanting to get away from the sight he'd just witnessed. Breath poured in and out of his lungs, so fast the burning sensation that erupted in them almost sent him back down again, but he kept going, racing past the broken down buildings and corpses that lay within them.

Sweat began to pour down his forehead and rivet down his cheeks, clearing tiny pathways in the dirt and blood his face was now currently covered in.

Alphonse's footsteps pounded along the ground at lightning speed, his brain trying to figure out where the hell he was at and why the hell he was there, but as he continued to run, his mind only became more cloudy and jumbled, fear still licking at his heels.

He stopped abruptly, his lungs unable to keep up with the amount of air he so badly needed. The brunette doubled over, clutching his side as pain seared through it once again.

More tears spilled down his cheeks as he found himself even more lost and confused than he'd started out as, his mind threatening to send him into infantile mode. The tremors grew worse as the air he inhaled grew staler, his knees growing so shaky that he fell to the ground, unable to sustain his own weight anymore.

"I warned you—I warned you to stay away from here," a raspy voice whispered harshly, pain filling its tone.

Ever so hesitantly, Al looked up, strands of brown whispering across his eyes. They widened as they took in the individual in which the voice belonged to.

Wrath stared at him, violet eyes full of burning hatred and anger, the half of his body that was left writhing in pain and agony.

"I warned you Alphonse Elric—" he paused only to let a pool of blood escape from his already ruby-red lips. "I warned you to stay away from here. I told you to go to the other side, so you could be with your brother." A gasp of pain interrupted him, but only temporarily. "But instead, you decided to be stupid, and you came back. All because you were worried about her. And look where she is now," he stated, slowly and painstakingly pointing a finger at a body that lay less than ten feet away from the two.

"Winry!" Al cried out, rushing to her side. His knees connected with the ground as he rolled her over, his breath catching in his throat. A dozen more tears welled in his eyes upon seeing the condition the blonde was in. And it wasn't good. "Winry," he murmured, his trembling fingers gliding through her once silky hair. It was now covered in blood as well, a few stray pieces hanging in her eyes.

"Hey, Al," she whispered, a faint smile registering on her face. Her blue eyes stared directly into his, glimmering even in the shadows that rained down from the clouds.

Thunder rumbled overhead, but he ignored it, unable to take his eyes of her; or the hole where her stomach used to be.

"Winry, no," the two words repeatedly made their way out of his quivering mouth, anger and pain welling within his chest. "What happened?" Normally, he would've been embarrassed at the way his voice raised on the last word, but now, he had more important things to take into account.

She smiled again, her sky blue orbs growing blanker by the second; the twenty year old's voice so faint it was almost inaudible.

"You've got to get Ed and go. Before they get you too," she stated, blood spilling out of her mouth and down the side of her chin. "You can't save us, Al. It's too late. Just go." She gently pushed one of his hands away from her, but it was no use, he was holding on too tightly.

"No! I'm not letting this happen!" he shouted, preparing to perform some form of alchemy, anything to make it all stop.

"Al." Her voice was so soft now, it barely made it to his ears. "Don't. Just...don't..." Her crystalline eyes pierced his one last time before her pupils drowned in the perfect sea of blue, disappearing into the velveteen blanket that was awaiting her.

"Winry..." His voice broke, unwanted tears making rivers down his distraught visage. He couldn't help but pull her close, taking in the scent he'd went four years without inhaling. Her hair was still soft, even with all the blood.

"I told you—I told you!" Wrath went on, choking on his own blood, even more pouring from his crooked mouth. "Why couldn't you listen? Why'd you have to be so stupid?" Choked laughter spilled from his lips just as another river of scarlet trickled down his chin.

"Shut up! Shut up! Just shut up!" Alphonse screamed, frustratingly grabbing the ends of his hair, desperately wanting to just yank it out. "This can't be happening...No..."

"Al!" a lone cry shot through the heavy air, flowing right into Al's ears, he automatically recognizing the owner's voice.

"Brother!" Terror flooded through him as more images flashed past him, sending him sprawling to his feet. Within seconds, his legs had managed to transport him past more buildings and wreckage; dead, soulless eyes staring back at him through broken windows and crushed cement blocks.

Another bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the empty city, chilling Alphonse to the bone. He could feel his body shaking violently underneath his torn and bloodied clothes, unsure of whether he'd actually be able to make it to Edward or not.

_No, I can't let him die too! Brother..._

He squinted, blurred figures coming into view as he neared what appeared to be the old town square of the city, the fountain somehow still standing in the middle, though the water that poured from it was red.

He could feel his blood run cold as he neared the harrowing sight. His body almost froze as the creatures that surrounded his older brother came into view.

Dread streaked through his veins, setting fire to the fear that was churning underneath his skin.

_They're not...human._

"Edward! Brother, I'm coming!" he shouted, now within ten feet of the nineteen year old. His gunmetal orbs flitted back and forth, seeing that there were at least six of those _things _encasing Ed in a tight circle.

"Al! Al! Help me for crying out loud!" the breathless but fear-filled remark flew out of Ed's lips, his golden eyes wide with fright, his face as pale as the fresh winter's snow.

Something wasn't right.

_Why isn't he using alchemy?_

The eighteen year old suddenly didn't want to know the answer. Lunging forward, he clapped, pressing his hands to the ground in hopes of doing something—anything to get rid of Ed's attackers.

Blue light surged from his fingertips and across the ground, giving a direct hit to the blood-soaked creatures. But as the smoke cleared, he realized the alchemy had done no good. They were still standing there, only now their attention was on Alphonse.

All at once, it was as though his whole body became paralyzed, the inability to move conquering his entire being. His orbs widened as the monsters slowly crept toward him, their movements twitchy but slow. And one by one, he recognized the military personnel he had come to trust as a boy.

"Major...," the word left his lips as he took in the sight of Major Armstrong, the man who had protected them on one of their journeys home. He was no longer the Armstrong they had both come to eventually trust. He was covered in crimson and flesh, the latter obviously not his from the looks of things. His normally piercing blue eyes were now the color of a freshly picked violet, and that could mean only one thing.

Alphonse shook his head, not wanting to believe the scene that was taking place before his eyes. "Ed, what's going on? I don't understand!" he shouted, trying desperately to move, but his feet were firmly stuck in place.

"They're...not human, Al," Edward replied, his voice strangely much softer than what it had been before, causing Alphonse to train his eyes on his older brother. And what he saw made him feel all the worse. A river of blood connected Ed to something sickly pale and looking very much like an arm a few feet away.

"Ed! Edward!" His words were starting to get jumbled together, his mind growing constantly foggier as the seconds passed. He tried to scream again, but nothing came out, not one single damn word.

He watched in silent horror as Armstrong came closer, followed by Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, and Falman; all covered in the same grimy bath of another's flesh and blood. Then finally General Mustang, his reddish blue eyes glimmering in the shadow of the fallen sun.

"Well, well, the gang's all here," the sarcastic tone left the man's overly-scarlet lips, his trademark smirk plastered across his darkened visage. "Nice of you to make it Alphonse. I'd hate to think you were going to miss your brother's death as well." The man grinned, flashing a perfect set of teeth, all covered in blood.

The eighteen year old tried to force his mouth to open, to shout out some sort of retort—hell, any goddamn thing, but his voice was lost, as well as his hope.

It was no use. He could feel himself falling apart, and hearing his older brother's pained breaths just a few feet away wasn't helping matters.

And then there were their footsteps; marching in precise military form(_left, right; left, right)_, heading straight for him.

And he couldn't even move a damned finger.

It only took a second for their hands to reach him, clawing at his skin and ripping it, as readily as they ripped Edward's and Winry's.

He awoke before a scream could erupt from his lips.

&&&&&

Gunmetal orbs opened wide to the darkened train car, a few rays of grey-blue light streaming through the cracks in the wall. Alphonse sat up, running a hand through his now short brown locks, they easily falling right back into place. He tried to calm his breathing upon seeing his breath spiraling from his lips, filtering through the air then eventually fading into the darkness; the process repeating a few times before he was finally able to control himself.

His hand shot to his cheek, tears immediately staining his fingertips. The eighteen year old quickly wiped them away, silently embarrassed at the frank show of emotion. He glanced over at Edward whose back was turned to him, relief washing over him, though the dream had anything but.

Images of Winry and Edward and Mustang flew past his eyes, sending chills down his spine. Finally realizing how cold it had gotten, he drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself. It had been chilly when they'd gotten on the train, but hell, now it was downright freezing and he couldn't stop shivering.

_It's just the dream. Just stop thinking about it. _

But thinking those words was definitely much easier than listening to them, especially since the sounds that were emanating from his brother's turned back sounded too much like those in the nightmare. He observed the older of the two for a moment, watching mutely as Edward mumbled something inaudible, his right arm twitching immediately afterwards.

Just the sight of the automail hand gleaming in the faded light made Alphonse feel all the more worse, simply due to the fact that Edward had accomplished what he had originally set out to do; he'd gotten Al his body back.

Yet there he was, artificial arm and leg firmly in place, and roughly little chance of that ever changing.

The former alchemist's eyes narrowed, his breaths coming out a little more raggedly as more jaded thoughts crossed his mind.

_I failed you, Brother! How can you still love me? How can you even look at me? How?_, he shouted inwardly, his cries falling on deaf ears. He could feel his fingernails digging into his skin, but ignored it. For some strange reason, he decided he needed to feel the pain.

Tears of anger welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them back, knowing he didn't deserve the pleasure of consciously releasing them.

_You know it's not fair, Ed! You should've been whole too...I'm sorry..._

He just wanted to scream, to let out the frustrations that were slowly building deep within his soul, but he couldn't. He just couldn't do it. Ed needed his rest, something Al knew he hadn't been getting much of lately. It was evident in his eyes as well as the rest of him; and he wasn't eating either, a fact the taller of the two could easily see, whether Ed wanted to believe it or not.

The clothes that the nineteen year old wore seemed to fit a bit better a couple of months ago, but as of late, they'd been getting looser and looser.

Ed had tried to use the excuse that he was just getting taller and it wasn't that big of a deal; but of course Alphonse had to counteract that excuse with a, "Yeah, right, since when, Brother? It's not like your pants have gotten any _shorter_." That would usually be the end of discussion; with Edward either walking away of just ignoring whatever else Al had to say.

It wasn't the first time they'd argued over such a "trivial matter" as Ed liked to call it. After all, Alphonse had gained back those four missing years once he'd crossed through the Gate.

He remembered when Edward had first become a State Alchemist and that whole Lydia LaShea woman, and everything that was involved. Even he couldn't forget those damned emerald eyes.

And apparently Edward couldn't for awhile either.

_You almost killed yourself, and you want to call me the idiot? _

The brunette was temporarily stirred from his thoughts as Edward shifted in his sleep, turning on his side to face the eighteen year old. Golden bangs lay gently across his pale face, his golden eyes hidden with sleep. His breath came out in tiny, quiet wisps, a thin vapor trail flowing gently from his lips and gradually fading.

Al's brow narrowed when he realized the small but noticeable beads of sweat that had gathered on Edward's forehead, glistening faintly in the din of the car. Containing the sudden surge of anger that fizzled through his bloodstream, he leaned forward, moving in for closer observation. Diminutive shivers made their way across Ed's lax form, forcing a sigh of frustration from Alphonse's lips.

"Why can't you ever just tell me the truth, Ed? Is it really that hard?" he questioned out loud, knowing the older of the two was lost in a dead sleep. "You always want me to talk to you, no matter how hard it is. But you can't do the same for me. I know you haven't forgotten Equivalent Exchange."

Just saying the phrase brought back memories that lived a long time ago, in another world and another time. As one flashed before his watering orbs, the train whistle blew loudly, the locomotive coming to a halt.

This world suddenly came into view, his eyes adjusting back to the grey shadow he was surrounded by.

_It's just a routine stop. Nothing to get worked up about...I hope. _

His heartbeat slowly started to ascend, fear rising up his spine. The minutes dragged on, he knowing that the train would usually only be temporarily stationed for around fifteen to twenty minutes before moving again; but as he checked his watch for the umpteenth time, he found that thirty minutes had passed, then forty.

Panic rerouted through his system, his brain going into overdrive.

"Ed, Brother, wake up," he muttered, shaking the nineteen year old gently but hard enough to get a response out of him.

The blonde stirred for a moment before letting his eyes close again, no words uttering from his quiet lips.

"C'mon, Ed!" Al whispered loudly, shoving Ed harder. This time the nineteen year old sat straight up without protest, his golden eyes glimmering with affright.

"What?" he asked, staring confusedly at his younger brother whose brow had managed to narrow even further, leaving Ed completely unaware. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Something's wrong," Alphonse replied, gathering up their things as Ed continued to stare at him blankly.

"What do you mean something's wrong?" Edward questioned with a grunt, hurriedly pushing himself to his feet, biting the inside of his cheek in order to forget about the pain that was constantly rushing up and down his arm and shoulder.

"We've been stopped for too long. It's been over half and hour, and judging from how long we've been moving, there shouldn't be any large towns around here. According to that map you gave me anyway," he muttered, picking up a stray book that had tumbled out of his pack on the ride.

Edward agitatedly brushed the sweat from his eyes, blind to the fact that it was probably no more than forty degrees inside the car and there would be no reason for perspiration. Quietly, he leaned over, peering out a small hole in the door of the car, praying he would be able to see something from his vantage point.

And that he did.

**Author's note : I feel so bad for leaving off here, but hey, at least it was an update right. I hope you guys didn't think I'd abandoned this story. I know it's been awhile, so for that I apologize. **

**Your endless support of "Whispers" and now the reviews I've gotten so far for this really help, and I appreciate it greatly. It means a great deal, and I only hope that this chapter sufficed.**

**Many, MANY ThAnKs goes to Legendary Chimera, Roy-Fan-33, Pink Pagoda, JChrys, Bloody Sword Alchemist, queenstrudel, Dark Mage Makai, Very Swampeh, Shattered Mirror01, flower miko, Bloody Ten'nyo, Azure Teriques, Kibamonkey777, Twilight Dragoness, and all of you who put me on an alert or list. I really do appreciate it everyone. And let me know how I'm doing too! ;)**

**P.S. Sorry for the lack of Ed. They'll be much more of him next chap though:D**

P.P.S. And during the Mustang/Hawkeye part, I just couldn't bring myself to write eye instead of eyes, so please take that into consideration. ; )


	4. Winter's Dismay

**Title : Drowning in the Abyss**

**Genre : Anime/Manga**

**Category : Full Metal Alchemist**

**Disclaimer : I am in no way affiliated with the fine people who created the show or manga but am grateful for it nonetheless. **

**Summary : It appears that traveling through the Gate affected Alphonse more than Edward ever knew. Sequel to Whispers of a Nightmare. Post movie.**

**Chapter 4 : Winter's Dismay**

It was as though everything started to move in slow motion as Edward's disbelieving golden orbs peered out the dimly lit train car.

"What's going on, Ed?" Alphonse questioned, his voice lost to a harsh whisper as he steadily hovered around his older brother, trying to figure out what the hell was going on outside the car's four walls.

The only response he received from the nineteen year old was a faint, "Shhh." The young man's vocal chords were temporarily out of order, due to the scene that was taking place within twenty feet of him.

Two men armed with guns stood near the next car, speaking rather harshly to two other men, scared and obviously frightened. German flooded from their tongues, making Edward all the more curious as to what was happening. He knew some of the language, but most of it was foreign to his ears.

"So wo ist es?(1)" the older of the two gun-wielding men asked, nudging one of the terrified men with the barrel of his shotgun.

"I don't know," the shaking man murmured, his ear-length brown hair getting blown in his eyes by the chilly wind. He was trembling, his arms and legs shaking helplessly as his counterpart stepped in front of him.

"Look, we told you, we have no idea what you are talking about, sir. My brother and I are just passing through. That's all. We've come to see—"

"Do I look as though I care about who you're here to see?" the older man cut him off, his blonde hair and blue eyes apparent even in the grey hues that were being cast down from the equally if not more so grey sky. He poked the taller of the two young men with the gun, hard enough to leave a mark. "Nicht tue ich nicht(2)," he stated before the young man could give a response, laughing as the other armed man pistol-whipped the shorter one across the face.

The brunette immediately fell to his knees from the force, blood already gushing forth from the fresh wound on his head. His brother rushed forward, once again attempting to block any advance the two men made on him.

Edward nearly gaped at the sight, the wheels in his head already turning. The last thing he and Al needed was to be noticed, but judging from the situation the two unarmed men were in, something had to be done or they were more than likely going to get killed, from the looks of things anyway.

But before he could even say a word to get out what he was thinking, Alphonse stood up from where he was sitting, having seen everything Edward had from his own vantage point.

"Come on, Ed." His voice was firm yet quiet, obviously not liking the choice both he and Edward had made.

As soon as Edward made it to his feet, he could feel that something was not quite right with his automail, his arm feeling even more stiff than what it had before he had fallen asleep. The wince that traveled across his tight features went unnoticed to Alphonse, but the hiss that befell his lips did not.

The eighteen year old stopped short, turning back to face his older brother who was currently gripping his right arm, pain evident across his wounded visage.

"What's wrong?" Al immediately inquired, his brow narrowed in slight anger. He hated it when Ed decided it was more important to keep things to himself than to say anything at all to him.

"It's nothing...Let's just go," Ed replied, his hand leaving the throbbing area, trying desperately to erase the pain that was currently etched within his golden orbs.

"No," Al cut him short as he tried to exit the train, absentmindedly reaching out and catching Ed's arm. The bad one, no less.

The nineteen year old instantly withdrew from his brother's sudden touch, pain searing through the limb. "What'd you do that for?" Edward hissed through gritted teeth. His left hand instantaneously shot back to where it had been before, clutching his arm tightly, though it wasn't helping any. Something was definitely wrong with it now. He just didn't know what. Hell, he didn't _want_ to know.

"Why can't you just tell me when something's wrong? Is it really that hard for you to do, Ed?" the frustrated words left the former alchemist's lips.

"We don't have time for this now, Al. You can bug me about it later." He pushed past the eighteen year old, ignoring the glower that was now currently settled on the brunette's features. Without another word, he pushed open the car door, biting his bottom lip as pangs of pain ran up and down his side. Ignoring it, he used the chilly air as a distraction, watching helplessly as his breath started to spiral out in front of him.

Alphonse followed the blonde, controlling the urge to jerk him back into the safety of the car.

_Ed does have a point, _he had to remind himself, knowing that if they didn't get to those two men before long, they'd be witnesses to murder.

"So tell me, why aren't you two gentlemen picking on someone your own size?" Edward questioned, his voice containing the cockiness that it only seemed to hold in situations such as what they were currently in.

All four men turned towards him, surprised at the intrusion.

"Wer Sie sind?(3)" inquired the armed man who had been quiet until now, his gun now aimed at Edward who appeared unimpressed. It wasn't the first time he'd had a weapon pointed in his face, and somehow, he knew it wouldn't be the last.

"Al, a little help here," Ed muttered, glancing back at the eighteen year old, a scowl still firmly set across his youthful features.

"He wants to know who we are," Alphonse responded, tight-lipped. His fists were clenched at his sides, unsure of whether who he wanted to punch more, Edward or one of the gunmen.

"I don't really think that's any of your business now, is it?" Edward copped back, staring the older man in the eye. "So now that that matter's settled, why don't you let these two go? It's not like they've done anything wrong." He was taunting the two armed men with each word that left his lips, though inwardly, he was scared half to death.

The two armed men glanced at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter, obviously not taking the former State Alchemist seriously.

Oh, how he hated that.

His brow narrowed almost mechanically, his jaw clenching within the confines of his mouth. He could feel heat brushing against his cheeks even though the cold was present, he'd just become numb to it.

"Don't do anything stupid, Ed. I _know_ you remember the last time," Alphonse muttered out of the corner of his lips, his gunmetal orbs glancing back and forth between Edward and the two brothers who looked even more afraid than what they were before.

"Trust me, I won't," the nineteen year old answered back evenly, his golden orbs dead set on the armed men's trigger fingers. "Run!" he shouted, charging straight for the blonde-haired individuals, his body set on autopilot.

As soon as dirt began to rise around his already moving feet, a bullet whizzed past him, narrowly missing its target and flying behind him. Another one set sail, aimed straight for his chest. He quickly blocked it with the automail, ignoring whatever pain that was currently searing through his nerves.

A smile stretched across his lips as the two men realized something was quite normal about his arm, the bullet not even fazing him(not at the moment anyway).

"What, did you two actually think you could hurt me?" he quipped, cockiness abound. Thankful for his agility, he hunched down, landing a low kick to the man with the pistol, knocking him straight to the ground, his gun landing helplessly a few yards away.

He then twisted back around, miraculously managing to kick the rifle out of the obvious leader of the two men's hands, dust flying up around the grounded weapon. The teen then attempted to punch the more than shocked German, but was blocked, the older man holding a tight grip on his hand.

"What's so special about those two?" Ed inquired, inwardly contemplating how intelligent the two now unarmed men were.

"Frankly, I don't think that's any of your business, zwergrind," the man responded, his strength slowly waxing over Ed's.

If there was word or phrase that the nineteen year old could detect in German, it was that. And it only pissed him off all the more.

"Runt?" Edward grunted, his brow furrowing even lower, anger more than apparent in his tone. "_Runt_?" he repeated, the madness now flooding quickly across his visage. "I'll show you runt, you bastard," the words circulated underneath his breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins, blocking out the electrocuting pain that was sizzling throughout his arm and shoulder blade.

"Ed!" Alphonse shouted through all the commotion, making sure the two young men had a clear shout of escape. "Brother!" he exclaimed, his grey eyes aflame with fear and anger.

"I'm a little busy here, Al!" the nineteen year old shot back, his teeth grit in determination, his golden orbs showing the clear disdain he held for the man who was amazingly strong for his appearance.

Alphonse could feel his jaw clench, his fists balled so tight his knuckles looked as if they were about to burst. His heart raced a mile a minute as the seconds passed by, unsure of what the hell to do. The two young men they were in the process of helping had already disappeared out of sight. Now that just left him and Ed to vanish into thin air as well.

But with Ed, vanishing was never quite as easy as it sounded.

The eighteen year old watched almost in horror as the man Ed had knocked to the ground minutes before reached for his pistol, the metal gleaming ominously in the cloud's grey rays.

"Edward!" He screamed his brother's name that time, absolutely fearful of what the hell was going to happen next. And as the shot rang through the air, he could almost feel his heart collapsing in on itself.

&&&&&

It had been approximately twenty-six hours since he'd had any sleep, and the fact that he was sitting in a room with the top ten members of the Assembly at such an early hour wasn't helping his exhaustion any.

But he was prepared.

His uniform was cleanly pressed, something he'd managed to do in the hours leading up to his meeting. The jet black locks that lay gently in front his eyes were also clean, alas, something else he'd been able to accomplish that morning.

But as he eyed each man that was seated at the table, the anger within him began to grow. He knew the moment the military lost the majority of its power to the Assembly, there'd be hell to pay.

God only knew what else they'd been hiding.

"Gentlemen, first of all let me say thank you for allowing this audience with me today," the General stated, his voice strong and firm, his onyx orbs trained on the small crowd of suits that faced him. "I must say that there are some rather _serious _matters at hand that need to be discussed." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into their brains, though inwardly, he knew they probably wouldn't have much of an effect.

But just as his lips parted to speak again, the speaker of the Assembly cut him off, his words already threatening the delicate balance of tension and anger that was so intricately placed inside the room.

"General Mustang, that is your name, correct? Right, very well then," the older man answered his own question, his glance falling to the mahogany colored table in front of him. "It appears that you've asked us to be here due to a minor infraction that's taken place in the city of Liore, is that correct?"

Mustang's jaw moved mechanically, clenching and unclenching within the confines of his mouth. A smart ass answer prepared to erupt from his lips, but he knew better. He had to keep his cool if he were to get anything out of this.

"Yes, sir," he replied, feeling heat rouse in his cheeks. "But I wouldn't call a murdered alchemist returning from the dead anything but minor." There. He'd said it. But it was in a polite tone; polite to him anyway.

A dry laugh escaped Representative Arnold's lips, though it was hardly joyous. His dull green eyes narrowed in on the raven-haired man, precise and carefully thought out words leaving his mouth.

"That is merely a rumor, General," Arnold responded, his forty-something features devoid of any humor now. "And we do not deal with such insignificant matters such as _rumors _in the Assembly. Our business is based purely on fact and truths, not the foolhardy of which you speak of. Now, if this is all—"

"No, that is not all," Roy interrupted evenly, his ebony eye glaring at the salt-and-pepper haired man. He could feel his jaw tighten further, almost to the point of pain, but pushed the feeling away, saving it for a more appropriate time. "This," he stated, extracting a black and white photo from the depths of his uniform pocket and placing it down on the table, "is evidence of the _infraction_ that took place. I also have a list of witnesses that are willing to testify to what they observed."

Hiding the smirk he so desperately wanted to wear, he straightened his posture, satisfied with the suits' reactions. The look of downright horror and disgust on the first man alone almost sent him reeling, but he concealed contentment, watching in secret delight as the picture was passed around.

"Now I do believe that it is the Assembly's duty to inform the military when there is information pertaining to an alchemist or rather anything that involves the misuse of alchemy, Representative Arnold. So may I ask why this was not brought to my attention judging especially by the way this man was murdered two weeks ago?" He could see the majority of the suits eyes had turned to their speaker whose mouth was currently clamped shut in apparent anger and embarrassment.

"We did not believe this had anything to do with the misuse of alchemy. People are murdered all the time," Representative Arnold stated almost automatically, his monotonous tone showing Mustang had gotten the better of him. Roy could almost swear he saw the man's hand shake as he took another glance at the picture.

"So what you're telling me is that the majority of people that are murdered have all their internal organs removed nowadays? Because the last time I checked, that wasn't the case." A sliver of the smirk escaped, he unable to contain the satisfaction of knowing that he was about to get exactly what he wanted.

The Representative's voice was flat as he spoke, his dull green eyes nearly closed in disdain at the photograph that sat in front of him. "What is it exactly that you want from us, General?" His narrowed gaze slowly made it's way up to the uniformed man, his onyx eye gleaming contently.

"I want full clearance on this case," Roy declared, his tone staying as even and authoritative as possible, though a hint of victory was laced within it. "And I'd like to personally oversea the investigation myself."

"Very well then, but any and all findings should be given in a detailed weekly report to the Assembly. Is that understood, General?" Arnold asked, clearly annoyed.

"Yes, sir." His gaze lingered on the defeated men for a moment before he turned and exited the room, and eager but patient Hawkeye awaiting his departure.

"Well, sir?" Her expectant tone only made the trademark smirk grow, his visible eye nitid.

"Began travel arrangements. We're going to Liore."

&&&&&

Everything happened so fast that the eighteen year old hardly even had a chance to process it. He recalled the sound of the gun going off, the echo reverberating harshly through his ears for seemingly minutes afterwards. His gunmetal orbs traced the object as it made its way towards his brother, aimed clearly at his gut.

The scream that erupted from his lips in the next moment temporarily deafened him, his eyes closing in reflex to the fear that had irrupted in his soul.

Before Alphonse knew it, he was feeling Ed's metal fingertips wrap around his wrist, jerking him forward, away from the chaotic scene that had just apparently taken place. He could feel his mouth moving, his throat and voice working in conjunction with each other, sound parting from his lips but he unable to hear it.

The only thing he could see was the blood on Edward's shirt, and upon making that discovery, he almost screamed again, fearful of what the next ten minutes would behold. A sudden onset of words and phrases flooded from his vocal chords, making it perfectly clear that he was scared half to death but pissed off nonetheless at the same time.

After what felt like hours of running through the wooded area they'd managed to surround themselves in, Edward stopped, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened and if the pain he'd been feeling minutes before was just being masked by the adrenaline that was still circulating through his veins.

The blonde leaned against a tree, feeling his breath leave his lungs faster than he could catch it. His thin body was trembling violently underneath his clothes, sweat silently escaping from his pores. Twirls of mist weaved their way from his lips, filtering through the chilly winter air and dissolving into the brush.

After the majority of his golden locks had fallen in front of his equally sunset-colored eyes, he glanced up, tilting his head ever so slightly to get a good look at his younger brother who appeared to be shaken and quite stirred.

Anger mixed with fear was conveniently sprawled across his face, nearly hidden behind his autumn-shaded bangs. His fists were once again clenching and unclenching at his sides, his knuckles so white they could easily rival the color of the winter's first snow. Edward could clearly see that the eighteen year old's jaw was also taught, his teeth probably turning to dust at being ground for so long.

His clouded gaze slowly made its way to his left cheek, crimson shading in the majority of the area. Even though it was most likely a graze, it was still bleeding pretty good. He'd take care of it in a minute, if he didn't pass out by then.

"You're bleeding." The words were stated in unison, though quite differently by their originators. One's tone held general concern, the other held contempt and disdain, though their was a touch of worry laced within it as well.

"Let me see." Once again the two brothers spoke at once, only before Edward could make a move to take a closer inspection of Al's cheek, he could feel himself being pulled forward, his shoes skidding in the dirt. "Al!" he tried to exclaim as his brother nearly ripped the blood-stained shirt straight from his shoulders. Luckily, he had enough time to shrug away, though the white cottony material was still removed, leaving one very embarrassed and confused Ed to comprehend what was going on. "Hey, what are you-"

"You could've gotten killed." Alphonse's tone was anything but happy or joyous or friendly as he tore off a piece of his own shirt, wrapping it tightly around Edward's small waist, inwardly thankful that the wound was just a little more than a graze on his side and not worse. Though outwardly, it was a completely different story.

He quietly finished wrapping the wounded area, his brain already trying to estimate where they could be on the map he had, praying there was water somewhere nearby. That wound was going to have to be cleaned, and soon.

"What were you thinking?" the sudden onslaught of words and escalated volume poured from his lips, nearly scaring Ed half to death. "I said we could help them, but not once did I say anything about fighting two _armed_ men! They could have easily shot you as soon as they saw you, Ed. And then you had to start in with the whole "invincible" act. You could've died!" he shouted, his arms flying out at his sides in frustration.

"They weren't going to shoot me," Edward mumbled, carefully pulling back on his shirt and coat, the pain in his shoulder starting to throb mercilessly again. He almost grimaced as he heard his heartbeat thump against his chest, the sound resonating loudly throughout his head.

"Then where'd that come from?" Al raised his voice again, pointing to the bloodstain on Edward's shirt. "Because I'm pretty sure it didn't just appear out of nowhere."

"Stop patronizing me, Al." His golden eyes narrowed as remnants of Al's sarcasm made their way to his brain, making him feel all the more stupid for the act he'd just committed.

"Do you even know what patronizing means, Ed?" the immediate remark shot out of his lips, though imminent regret soon followed. A sigh whistled through his teeth as he began to pace, absentmindedly wiping his bloodied cheek. With a furious roll of the eyes, he reached for his handkerchief, doing his best to remove the majority of the ruby-colored substance.

"We've got to look for those two brothers," the nineteen year old stated, fixing his gaze away from his younger sibling, trying desperately to ignore the voices that screamed at him from the back of his mind that he was a complete idiot and that Alphonse was right.

"We need to find somewhere to clean up at first. That wound of yours could easily get infected if we don't sanitize it soon." There was something in his tone that forced Ed to shift his blurred gaze back to the eighteen year old. He almost sounded like...

Sudden movement in his peripheral vision caught Edward by surprise, he nearly knocking himself over as he prepared to hit whatever the said movement was. But as two shaken but innocent enough looking men from before surfaced from behind the brush, relief washed over the former State Alchemist.

"We are very sorry for what happened back there," the older one stated with a thick German accent. "My brother and I..." His face fell downcast, shame washing over his twentysomething features.

"It's alright," Ed shrugged it off, inwardly thankful that his sudden stimuli wasn't threatening, even though his heart still refused to beat normally. "I'm Edward Elric, and this is my younger brother, Alphonse."

"Nice to meet the both of you," the older one spoke again, his brown eyes glimmering with warmth and concern. "My name is Paul Ehrenberg, and this is my younger brother, Carl," he stated proudly but sadly, placing a gentle hand on the shoulder of the shorter man next to him. The brunette looked up, his hazel eyes wary underneath a curtain of bloodied bangs.

"How's your wound?" The nineteen year old's voice was suddenly soft, guilt washing over him like a rainstorm.

"The bleeding has stopped, but he has a very bad headache," Paul answered for the younger man, his green eyes shimmering, tears retreating back into his gentle orbs.

"Is he unable to speak?" Alphonse asked, stepping up next to Ed, examining the wound on the mute man.

"He is very shy, and doesn't talk often around strangers," Paul explained, his grip loosening on the younger man's shoulder. His gaze slowly wandered off to the shivering trees, the wind whipping through them violently.

"Why were those two men after you?" Edward spoke suddenly, not caring if his tone was just the slightest bit standoffish. He was extremely curious about the whole situation, and the sooner that curiosity was nourished, the sooner he could get on with their business.

Paul was quiet for a moment, that moment obviously too silent for Ed. A sudden wonderment flashed in his golden orbs, a spark igniting within his soul.

"You were lying, weren't you? You weren't here to see anyone," Ed started, an eyebrow arched as fear suddenly took up residence in his gut. Thoughts and past conversations began to barrel through his mind, the name Ehrenberg suddenly sounding awfully familiar.

"Please, we really didn't mean to involve you in this. I'm very sorry," the apology unraveled from Paul's almost trembling lips, the man looking as though he was about to cry.

"Don't be," Alphonse quickly replied. "Ed tends to involve _himself_ in things," he added under his breath, though he knew the nineteen year old had heard him.

"Why were those two men threatening to kill you?" Ed's questioning stare only made the older man seemingly shrink back within himself, his eyelids fluttering quickly as to stop the tears that were trying to rain down his cheeks. "There's something you're not telling us, and if you want our help, you're going to have to." He was quiet as he waited for some sort of response, but upon seeing the man's continuous reluctance, he reverted to a plea. "Please, it's important that you let us know what's going on so we can get those men to leave you alone. Please."

"Because they think we have information," Carl finally spoke, his voice a mere whisper.

Both Edward and Alphonse's heads turned quickly, surprise and confusion flashing through their orbs.

"What kind of information? And who?" Al queried, his brow narrowing at the man's sudden want to speak.

"Information on—" He cut himself short upon feeling his brother's hand squeeze his shoulder, but slowly continued on it's release. "On die schwarze Bombe des Todes," the brunette murmured, his voice barely audible.

A confused expression weaved it's way across both of the Elric's faces, though Alphonse soon understood what Carl had said, his features darkening almost immediately.

"What? What is it?" Ed countered, worry laced in the undertones of his voice.

"Those men thought they had information on the bomb." The eighteen year old's voice was quiet, his gunmetal orbs glimmering with concern and fear.

"Do you?" the two words parted Edward's lips, all pain completely forgotten about at the moment. The two men standing in front of him could have all the answers to the questions he had, but as Paul went to speak, a shout erupted through the air.

"There they are!"

All four faces turned in the direction of the voice, horror streaking across their visages.

"Run!" Ed shouted for the umpteenth time that day, praying silently that the bullets that were starting to fly past them would just disappear. His heart nearly stopped as he heard Alphonse cry out, pain emanating from his voice.

The blonde stopped dead in his tracks, preparing to turn back around, but before he could, a cloud of darkness enveloped his vision, the velveteen blanket of unconsciousness falling upon him.

(1)So where is it?

(2)No, I do not

(3)Who are you?

**Author's note : I am so, so, so sorry everyone for taking so freakin' long to update again. And I also want to apologize for not being able to reply back to your reviews. We had severe technical difficulties with our comp system and I didn't have a back up for this chapter and I lost the entire thing. Thus, I had to go back and write the whole thing over again. **

**THANK YOU all so much for your continuous and wonderful support of this story. It is GREATLY appreciated and I can't thank you all enough for the encouragement. **

**MANY THANKS goes to Kibamonkey777, flower miko, JChrys, Azures Teriques, Pink Pagoda, Legendary Chimera, Dark Mage Makai, Bloody Sword Alchemist, Very Swampeh, Riker15, queenstrudel, akamori-chan, Shattered Mirror01, ShadowCloud62, Twilight Dragoness, and all of you who have put me on an alert or favorite. **

**Thank you guys for your patience and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! ;)**

**P.S. If I messed up somewhere, let me know. ;)**


	5. Chaos in Shangri la

**Title : Drowning in the Abyss**

**Genre : Anime/Manga**

**Category : Full Metal Alchemist**

**Disclaimer : I am in no way affiliated with the fine people who created the show or manga but am grateful for it nonetheless. **

**Summary : It appears that traveling through the Gate affected Alphonse more than Edward ever knew. Sequel to Whispers of a Nightmare. Post movie.**

**Chapter 5 : Chaos in Shangri-la**

A cool breeze drifted past his face, waking him from the darkness he'd been surrounded in. Golden eyes fluttered open, revealing a clear blue sky overhead. Narrowing his brow, the nineteen-year-old slowly pushed himself up, his gaze shifting from his dirt-covered clothes to the sudden realization that he was alone, and not in the same place he'd been before he passed out.

"What the...?" he muttered, his golden locks flowing freely within the confines of his ponytail, taking in the sight that encircled him.

Roses of the brightest color red encased him on all sides, the flowers swaying in the wind that was starting to turn colder. He shivered involuntarily, taking a few steps forward before realizing that the bed of flowers he was in was, in fact, a field; and as he looked on, the former State Alchemist could see that it stretched on, past his line of sight.

Chills immediately darted up and down his spine, his heart beginning to race.

_What is this? Where am I? _The thoughts circulated through his head, fear snaking like ice through his veins.

"Al!" the blonde called out, his voice echoing even though there were no walls for it to reverberate off of. "Alphonse!" he shouted his brother's name again, the chilly air blowing past him once more, forcing goosebumps to crawl across his overly pale skin.

"Brother," the wind whispered back, a blast of frigid air knocking right into him. He nearly fell backwards at the force, unwilled tears instantly forming in his eyes.

"Where are you?" Edward exclaimed, taking a few more steps into the blanket of roses, the wind blowing the poor things so violently, they looked as though they were about to fall over.

"Brother, why? Just tell me why..." Alphonse's voice drifted past him like one of the clouds that was currently flooding in overhead of him.

"Why what?" Ed yelled, obviously confused and silently terrified. He was trembling now, the bitter cold temperatures starting to burn his skin. The nineteen-year-old wrapped his arms around himself, but warmth was something he could not catch at the moment.

"I thought...you loved me...but I guess...I was wrong..." His brother's voice started to fade, as though it was being carried by the breeze.

"Of course I love you, you idiot!" the words tumbled out of Edward's mouth, shaking his head at the blasphemy that was filtering through his ears. He immediately began to run, chasing his younger brother's voice.

But as his feet hit the ground, he could feel himself sinking, step by step. His horrified specks of gold instantly looked down, hands pale and as white as the snow that was starting to fall from the sky reaching for his legs.

The horrifying sight only made him want to run faster, but the further he ran, the more he sunk, both his legs feeling like they were made out of lead.

He grit his teeth, forcing himself to go on, but no matter how hard he pushed himself, he was continuing to run slower and slower, gravity pushing him deeper into the ground.

A scream erupted from his quivering lips, unwanted tears leaking down his distraught cheeks. Dread filled his system as his body continued to move in slow motion, pain starting to spread throughout his extremities. He sank down more, his golden orbs constrained to take in the sight of the roses once again, though this time, their crimson color had seemingly leaked out of them, staining the ground he was sinking into. Their petals had turned black and whithered, the bleached-white snow contrasting greatly with them.

He searched wildly for something to grab onto, to stop from falling into the sinkhole he was currently being consumed by, but there was nothing; absolutely nothing.

Every dead rose his hand latched onto turned to ash, wasting away between his fingertips. And right before his chin hit the dirt, a bloodcurdling shriek reached his ears, followed by several more. The last thing he saw before he went under was the dead flowers; singing their dreaded song of excruciating pain, stretched up as far as their stems would let them extend towards the heavens, blood gushing from their centers.

Edward's eyes widened as the hands tugged harder, successfully pulling him underground, leaving him gasping for breath. His lungs filled with dirt as he was forced deeper and deeper into the depths of the earth, deafening silence piercing his ears.

It almost felt like when he was being pulled through the Gate.

Almost.

At least when he went through the Gate, he could breathe. Barely, but still, it was better than what he was experiencing at the current moment.

The nineteen-year-old wanted to scream as the nails that belonged to the deathly pale hands dug into his skin, leaving tiny chunks of it in the dirt as he continued downward. And the ones that were wrapped around his arms and legs were surely leaving bruises on his fragile skin, one fingerprint at a time.

Before he knew it, the dirt was gone, replaced with fresh clean air and another gorgeous blue sky. He was on his feet before he knew it, trying to make sense of things, but as he would soon find out, that would be nearly impossible in this world.

Chills traveled up and down his spine as the warm breeze connected with his skin, blowing his golden locks more askew than what they already had been. His glance wavered as the sound of birds chirping caught his hearing, making him more than ever aware of his surroundings.

Grave stones littered the ground before him, a quite large one in particular sending its shadow over the former Amestris State Alchemist. He swallowed the saliva that had been building up on his tongue before moving towards it, peering at the name. Horror enveloped his visage as he read the words silently.

_Alphonse Elric, Beloved brother until the end. May he rest in piece._

"What?" the exclamation left his lips, his shaking hands gripping the sides of the stone. His golden orbs widened, looking like two very "No! No, this can't be right! Alphonse! Al!" he cried out, his voice breaking in two as more rivers spilled down his cheeks, waterfalling to the soil beneath him.

"Brother..." His younger sibling's voice blew in with the breeze once more, though it sounded strangely close, much closer than it had before. "Brother...why?" It was distant, then suddenly right in his ears, forcing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.

He turned around abruptly, the feeling of being watched carefully implanted in his brain. The nineteen-year-old fell backwards at what he saw, a low cry escaping his throat.

Standing before him was Alphonse, his grey eyes as lifeless as his decaying body. What was once his best set of clothing hung on the young man's frame, torn and eaten away by God only knew what. His once warm and loving visage was a sickly shade of grey and white, his cheeks sunken into the point where no fat could lay in between his skin and his jaw.

Where there had once been a full head of brilliant, shiny hair, there were mere patches left, worms digging their way through the remainder of it. Some of them fell to the ground with a sickly thump, slithering off back into the ground, taking a piece of Alphonse along with them.

A black spider danced across his forehead, tittering dangerously back and forth between his eyebrows, making Edward sick to his stomach. The blonde doubled over at the sight, vomit inching up his throat, threatening to spill out at any moment. Sweat poured down him front and back, making it feel as though he were swimming in the salt-filled substance.

Shaking his head, Edward glanced up, fear swallowing his pride as he caught the expression on Al's face, a mix of sadness and hatred.

"How could you do this to me, Ed? How?" The eighteen-year-old's voice was shrill, going in and out like a bad radio signal. "You...killed me." Black, sludgy tears slowly started to leak down Alphonse's grey cheeks, staining the already ghastly looking skin.

"No, no, Al, you're wrong. You're wrong!" Edward cried out, forcing himself to stare at the corpse, his throat almost closing in on him as he saw the small bullet hole nestled neatly between Alphonse's eyes. His breath caught sharply in his chest, burning his lungs to the point of almost no return. "No...no, please." His voice was a mere whisper as images flashed before his eyes, burning his irises with their truth, nearly scaring the older Elric to death.

"I'm sorry, Al...I'm so sorry..." His voice had dropped to a whisper, frightened tears dancing in his eyes. Before he could even reach a hand out for mercy, he could feel cold, bitter cold hands clasped tightly around his throat, squeezing what little life he had left in him out.

"You were right there, but you did nothing!" Alphonse spat, venom saturating his tone, his hands tightening on Edward's neck. "You ran, you coward! And left me there to die! How could you? How could you?" he screamed, his brittle nails breaking off in his older brother's skin.

Ed tried desperately to respond; short, quick gasps of air the only thing managing to escape out of his wind pipe. Sweat beaded and trickled down his brow, sliding quietly to the green grass below.

"You promised you'd protect me! But look at me! Four years wasted—_wasted_ in a metal body, and this is all I get? Look at me, Ed! Look at me!" the corpse yelled, bloodied spittle hitting Edward straight in the face, but he could nothing to stop it, all adrenaline gone from his system. "Just remember, you killed me," he stated icily, his dead orbs burning into his older brother's. "And Mom. And Dad! And Hughes! You, Ed! _You_ killed us all! And don't forget about Nina. Don't you dare forget about her," Al added, a deranged half-grin lighting up his rotting visage, black and yellowed teeth peering out from behind blue-tinted lips.

"Al, please," the nineteen-year-old managed to choke out, his hands clasping his younger brother's, trying urgently to pry them off his neck, but he was just too weak.

"No, Brother," Alphonse responded evenly. "I'm done saving you. It's over." The corpse cocked its head to one side, a chunk of skin falling from its decaying cheek and dropping to the ground as it studied Edward for a moment. The demented grin slowly crept across his features once more, a tiny, joyous laugh parting his cracked lips.

A black blanket was slowly starting to blot out the vision in the corners of his glazed golden orbs, his gaze fixed on the moving figure in front of him. It didn't take long for four more silhouettes to come into his decreasing line of sight; and just before he hit total blackness, he could just make out four pairs of eyes, all dead and lifeless, staring directly at him.

"Mom? Dad?" Ed squeaked, feeling icy cold hands seize him just before the light came to take him away.

&&&&&

Edward awoke to the sounds of cackling flames, licking at the edges of a dusty and dirtied fireplace. The nineteen-year-old immediately sat up, golden orbs wide as he took in his surroundings, making sure he wasn't in another dream.

Wooden walls encased him on all sides, bare except for a tiny mirror on the one to his left, and a filthy window on his right that would obviously take some time cleaning to be able to see out of. It looked harmless enough, but where the hell was he?

He was panting without realizing it, sweat continuing to pour down his forehead and cheeks and chest and back. It took a moment for the pain to hit him, his right shoulder and side searing, his nerve endings going haywire. An accidental hiss parted his lips, the young man jumping at the sound.

Pushing strands of gold from his eyes, he noted that he was in a house, a small, dusty, cobwebbed one. His nose crinkled for a second, the scent of mildew making its way through his nostrils, but he had more important things to worry about at the moment, like finding his brother.

Pushing the nightmare to the back of his mind, he slid his legs over the side of the bed, biting his bottom lip as another round of pain snaked through him, though this time it originated from his leg. Glancing down, he saw a white cloth wrapped neatly around his left thigh, a few drops of crimson staining the snow-colored material.

As soon as he made it to his feet, his vision blurred horribly, blue and purple shadows dancing around the room. Reflexively, he gripped the bed, his teeth gritting as his head continued to spin, round and round before he finally closed his eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, Edward stood up again, trying to take it slowly but the thought of Alphonse rushed him, making his attempt all the more harder. He reached the door in a dizzied frenzy, his hand shaking violently as he turned the knob. Jerking the door open haphazardly, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Paul standing on the other side, a small pail and cloth in his hands.

The dark-haired man gave the nineteen-year-old a relieved smile, though concern still crisscrossed his features. "I see that you are awake. That is very good," he stated, doing his best to pronounce the words in English.

Ed cut the pleasantries. He wasn't exactly giving much thought to himself at the moment, Alphonse was his chief concern. "Where's my brother?" the blonde asked instantaneously, peering up at the slightly older man with his large golden orbs.

"He is alright," Paul confirmed with another quick grin, nodding towards a nearby room. "A bullet hit him in the arm, but it went straight through. I don't think there should be any lasting damage." He was going to continue, but before he could get to his next sentence, Ed was already headed for the door he had gestured to. The twentysomething man caught him gently by the shoulder before he could disrupt the younger man's sleep. "He is resting right now. I would—"

"I just want to see him," Edward cut in, his voice soft but gravelly, his golden orbs full of silent worry. Slowly pulling his arm away from the taller man, he entered the room quietly, well, as quietly as he could, careful not to put too much weight on his metallic leg. It clinked slightly as he limped over to the small bed to where Alphonse laid, a peaceful look on his sleeping visage. It was nothing like the hardened expression he normally wore as of late. He actually looked like a kid again. Before their lives changed.

A saddened smile turned up the corners of Edward's lips, unwanted tears brimming at his eyes. He painstakingly lifted a shaking hand to his brother's forehead, pushing back the strands of brown hair that had managed to get in his eyes.

The cut on the eighteen-year-old's face had been cleaned and bandaged up, though he'd probably have a scar there nonetheless.

The former State Alchemist's spools of gold slowly made their way down to the wound on Al's arm. It was covered with the same kind of white cloth that was wrapped around his leg, though to his relief, there were no signs of any more bleeding.

_He isn't dead. Be thankful for that, _a voice in the back of his head reminded him. Letting out a low sigh, he gave Alphonse one last glance before exiting the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

A round of dizziness decided to hit him at that second, forcing his back to the door to keep him standing. Spots of many colors danced before his eyes before slowly fading into the depths of his vision.

"Are you alright?" Paul's voice came from seemingly out of nowhere. He was leaning against the wall adjacent to the room Edward had woken up in, awaiting the nineteen-year-old's arrival patiently.

"Yeah, 'm fine," Ed muttered, feeling his heart rate slowly begin to decrease. For a minute there, he was sure it was going to jump out of his chest. "Where are we?" he asked, his vision mostly cleared.

"A safe house," the older man replied, picking up the small pail of water he'd had before, cloth already in hand. "How does your leg feel?"

"A safe house?" Ed repeated questioningly, an eyebrow arched. "Like for people in hiding, right?" he asked, tilting his head to one side, doing his best to regain his "tough" exterior.

"Yes, exactly." He paused for a moment, glancing down at Edward's leg. "Your wound needs to be cleaned again. Let me take a look at it, then we will talk," Paul stated softly, leading the way to Ed's room.

Edward limped after him, gritting his teeth as pain electrocuted his nerves and muscles. By the time he had reached the bed, sweat was already beading on his forehead, threatening to drip into his eyes.

"You need to rest more. You've only been out a few hours," the brunette chided gently, unwinding the bloodied cloth.

"How's your brother?" the nineteen-year-old inquired, remembering the nasty wound the other man had received before they'd made their escape, suddenly not wanting to make eye contact with the German.

"He's fine. A bit on the shaky side, but otherwise, alright." The man was silent for a moment, catching the glint of metal on Edward's foot. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but-"

"It's a long story, and if I told you, you probably wouldn't believe me," Edward cut him off, still avoiding the older man's gaze, wincing as alcohol was wiped across the wound.

"I would love to hear the explanation as to how you got those. I've never seen anything like that before in my life," Paul commented, nodding towards the fake limbs. "They must come in very handy."

Ed watched him continue to clean the wound, his eyes narrowing slightly, silently musing about the irony of the situation. He couldn't ever recall a time in Amestris where he'd taken a bullet, finding it especially hard to believe judging by all of them that had crossed his path. Yet he'd only been in this world for a little over two years, and both he and Alphonse had managed to get hurt. He pushed back the guilt that was slowly welling in the pit of his stomach for a later time, deciding to continue with their conversation instead.

"A friend made them for me. I...I lost my limbs in an accident when I was ten," he explained softly, his golden orbs slowly finding Paul's questioning ones. "I did something pretty stupid, and have paid the price for it ever since. If it wasn't for Alphonse..."

"He is a very stubborn one, your brother. Much like you I assume," the man interjected politely with a quick grin and a soft laugh. "He wouldn't even lean on Carl the whole way here, and he even tried to carry you himself. It was very hard convincing him otherwise."

The words only managed to bring up one corner of Ed's lips, the barely there smile quickly fading back to a straight line, concern and curiosity spreading across his pale visage.

"Who are you with?" The question came quick, almost too quick for the older man to hear.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a kidding expression, the smile still on his face. Clearly, he'd underestimated the nineteen-year-old.

"If we're in a safe house, that means you have to be with something or someone. Especially if you and your brother were being questioned about the bomb. I know for a fact that information about it is strictly confidential and hard as hell to come by." Edward was silent for a minute, his gaze unwavering now. He sat up a little straighter, leaned forward a little. "If you know something—anything, you have to tell me." His tone was on the demanding side, but his eyes were more pleading than anything. He was desperate to rid this world of that atrocity, fully knowing what its effects could be. He had to stop it. He _had_ to.

Paul sighed, leaning back in the wooden chair he'd been sitting in while attending to Ed's wound, running a hand through his hair. His gaze eventually fell on Edward after a few moments of silence, the man trying to figure out how he should answer the blonde's question. His green eyes narrowed as he leaned forward slightly, folding his hands in his lap.

"May I ask why you and your brother are looking for it in the first place? As you said, it is very confidential, and there are few who know of its existence. And it is very easy to see that you and your brother are not from around here."

"We know the man that created it. We know what it can do, and I'll do anything in my power to put a stop to that." He made it obviously clear that he was serious, that much was seen in his golden orbs as well as the expression on his face.

Paul looked almost taken aback by the information, surprised that the teen knew as much as he did. He cleared his throat, preparing to flood the young man with more, admiring the youth's determination.

"We—Carl and I—are part of an organization that are trying to put a stop to its use as well. We too have heard of its horrors, and know that if something as dangerous as that could be unleashed upon this world...well, the possibilities and consequences are not ones we are particularly interested to see." He inhaled deeply and licked his lips, readying himself to go on. "But there are many who want it for their own purposes, as you and your brother witnessed at the train station."

"So that's why those men were after you. But how did they know?" Ed queried, desperately trying to absorb all the information that was coming at him, confusion marked upon his features.

"They had to have been tipped off, or something of the sorts. It's the only thing I can think of at the moment. Of course, you know, there are some opposing our efforts as well."

"So what you're saying is there's the possibility of a civil war erupting over this thing? But that's insane!" His voice raised, anger crossing his brow. "I didn't realize there were so many people after it."

"Yes, and those two men were not the only ones. Carl and I have come across quite a few more, as well as our fellow members. And they will not rest until they find it. We've already lost three due to their madness. But it's a risk we are all willing to take," Paul explained, letting out a contained sigh.

"So do you have any idea as to where it could be now?" The question was an inevitable one, but one he had to ask.

"There have been reports that it's been moved out of the country, possibly to Austria or France; I've heard it could be in America by now. There's even a chance that there's more than one." The warm expression on Paul's face had turned grim, his green eyes gleaming even in the lack of light.

Edward shivered, not knowing if it was from the fire burning out, or the fact that this was getting more out of hand than he originally thought. _You were able to get a Philosopher's Stone, why not this?_, the thought ran through his brain. But Amestris was a hell of a lot smaller than practically any country in this world.

But he hadn't decided to leave home for nothing. He was on a mission, and nothing was going to stop that. Or so he hoped.

&&&&&

Familiar scenery flew past his ebony orbs, the man knowing the route from Central to Liore better than he was supposed to. Only somehow, it was different now. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it just didn't seem as alive as it once had.

Or perhaps it was just the fact that it looked like it was about to pour at any minute. His gaze slowly wandered up to the dark sky, lightning already sizzling amongst the grey and purple clouds. Thunder rumbled distantly, his brow narrowing at the sound.

With one hand rested underneath his chin, he appeared rather uninterested in much of anything even though he was probably on his way to one of the most mystifying and dangerous cases he'd ever be apart of.

He had only one reason why that particular bit of information could be true. And so did the person next to him.

"It's been awfully quiet, hasn't it?" Hawkeye quired in the driver's seat next to him, an eyebrow arched casually, a sideways glance befalling the man beside her.

"It's been awfully quiet for the past two years," Mustang murmured in reply out the corner of his mouth, his good eye still trained on the storm raging above them.

She couldn't help but grant him a longer glance, her perfect composure failing for a fraction of a second as her cinnamon-colored eyes studied him, inwardly knowing exactly what was going through his head. She was hesitant to say what was desperately trying to travel off her tongue, but she knew the issue and person in question was a sensitive one, but it had to get out in the open somehow. Hell, he'd been stewing on that for that past twenty-six months to be exact.

"You miss him, don't you?" Her voice was gentle yet carrying its ever authoritative tone as it always had, though it was softer than usual, almost too soft for him to hear.

The question definitely perked his interest, his chin nearly falling off his fist as he turned his head to stare at her, the bemused expression quickly transforming into a slightly confused one. A smirk slowly crossed his visage, his eye falling back to the glass that separated him from the outside.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he stated, his voice almost even except for the minute amount of smugness she was able to detect in it.

"Understood, sir." Her voice was low as her eyes drifted back towards the scenery that was passing through the windshield, fat raindrops starting to fall on the glass.

She let the awkward silence pass between them as she usually did when situations such as the one they were currently in arose.

The sky continued to darken as she drove, water splashing underneath the moving tires with every turn. The trees that surrounded them trembled violently as the wind rattled their branches, shaking once lively leaves dead to the ground.

Lightning seemingly split the sky in half, purple streaks slicing through the clouds and temporarily forcing them apart from their congregation. Thunder laughed wickedly behind it, its cackle almost immediate as the rain grew heavier, pounding on the top side of the vehicle. Hail soon followed, bellowing down upon the black roof.

Without a word, the woman pulled the car to the side of the road, unable to see within an inch past the automobile. A low sigh escaped her lips as she put the machine in park, waiting for the storm to subside, but if the forecast was true, that wouldn't be for another two hours, possibly three.

Silence continued to meddle between them until she spoke, her cinnamon-colored orbs still trained on the windshield wipers that were now rendered useless thanks to the blanket of ice and water that was raining down on them.

"You're going to try to find him, aren't you?" There was no _sir_, no awareness of his rank whatsoever. She asked her question as calmly as she could, already knowing the answer that was going to part his lips. But she always did. She always knew, whether or not she actually wanted to hear it was a whole other story.

His uncovered eye was blank for a moment, letting no emotion or hint of his response be shown in it. The man's brow was a straight line of neutralism, no crease downward or upward to alert the woman of his true answer. But she could already hear his voice in her head, the calmness of his tone completely contrasting with the words that were coming out of his mouth. Well, would be anyway.

Lightning passed over them once more, lighting up the area around them, granting the trees one last chance at light before darkness settled in again, conquering the shadows and the ghosts that waited within them.

"If you are alluding at the fact that I've done something or have reason to attempt to contact the boy, then you're wrong. I've done nothing of the sort." He paused for a moment, letting his gaze slowly adjust to the darkness he was shaded in, his wary orb casually wondering towards the woman. "Besides, some of us have moved on." The smirk easily made its way back across his visage, though his effort at trying to hide the truth was a fruitless one, Hawkeye already seeing through it.

"Sir—" Her voice faltered, actually faltered because the words she was about to speak were ones that she never thought she would say to the man she'd been protecting for the good majority of her career. And to think, ten years had already passed. "Roy," it shook slightly, but she continued, forcing confidence back into her tone. "Ever since you've come back, you haven't been the same; and I know that none of us has exactly been the same, but there's something...something you're keeping from me."

Her cinnamon orbs gleamed in the lightning's shadow, the sudden burst of electricity giving him just enough light to see the sincerity and concern etched across her features.

"You stay in the office, waiting until everyone is gone and you're the last one left." He couldn't stop watching her as she spoke, taking in every last syllable, ultimately knowing what was going to leave her lips. "You wait, and wait, until its as though you give yourself permission to leave. And when you do, you go through the city, into the Old District, and then you disappear." She almost wanted to laugh at the next sentence that was preparing in her head, but she didn't, instead letting an incredulous tone do all the disbelieving. "And then you go into a church...You didn't close it, did you?" She was hesitant at the last line, her eyes automatically locking into his.

He didn't know how much time had passed until he broke away from her confused stare, a deflated sigh easing from his throat.

"How long have you known?" Mustang's tone was almost sarcastic, but for some reason, he couldn't be like that with her. Not right now anyway.

"Since the first night," the blonde answered, her cinnamon orbs still not leaving the man's face. "It had been awhile...I wanted to know—No, I needed to know how you were handling it. Losing someone's...not easy." She couldn't explain the sudden need to get everything out in the open, or her hunger for the truth; it wasn't as though they weren't not going to be alone for the next few days or weeks.

"You make it sound as though he's dead," Roy stated in an almost joking tone, a small but noticeable smile pursuing his lips. His glance met hers once more, noting how serious she looked, obviously worried about the man. "I found the opening to be somewhat convenient, and if the need arose, then I would find a way to retrieve him."

"You speak as though he's still under your command." Her voice was returning to normal, though a playful look still showcased itself in her eyes.

The man did not hesitate.

"He is. I never once gave him permission to leave." The smirk was in full effect as he stared at her, taking joy in the fact that he could almost see the corners of her lips turn up into a smile. A genuine one.

"You can't be serious." She cut herself off before she could utter the word _sir_, preparing to transform back into her usual formal self.

"He was never discharged, and I have the paperwork to prove it. He's still a member of the military, even if he doesn't live in this world. He's just been on a leave of absence for the past two years." A satisfied grin was just about to creep upon his lips until he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. To his surprise, a familiar face greeted him just outside the window, taking away any trace of the smugness he was so accustomed to.

He was not expecting this. Not in in a million fucking years.

**Author(ess)' note : Wow, THANK you everyone for your wonderful reviews. They truly are inspiration in the highest form. Thank you all for being so supportive and understanding as well. MANY, MANY THANKS goes to ShinigamiXIII, KibaMonkey777, Legendary Chimera, Dark Mage Makai, JChrys, ShatteredMirror01, KobrahEdo, flower mika, Pink Pagoda, Riker15, HughesHanajimaHilariaHypocrite, ohcEEcho, and everyone else who has put me on a list or alert. Thank you so much everyone, and I only hoped this chapter sufficed. **


	6. Phoenix Dreams

**Title : Drowning in the Abyss**

**Genre : Anime/Manga**

**Category : Full Metal Alchemist**

**Disclaimer : I am in no way affiliated with the fine people who created the show or manga but am grateful for it nonetheless. **

**Summary : It appears that traveling through the Gate affected Alphonse more than Edward ever knew. Sequel to Whispers of a Nightmare. Post movie.**

**Chapter 6 : Phoenix Dreams**

He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. Here he was, having a perfectly good conversation with his subordinate of nearly ten years, and then this.

Someone he hadn't seen in more time than he cared to remember.

Hesitantly, he unlocked the back door, clearing his throat as the man continued to stare at him through the window, rain still pattering down heavily on the glass. After a few moments of no movement and uncomfortable silence, he reluctantly rolled down his window, annoyed at the water that was starting to hit him in the face.

A thousand words ran through his mind, filled with sarcasm and anger and hate; but for the life of him, he just couldn't manage to speak any of them. In a way, it just didn't seem right.

Hearing the sigh he was so desperately trying to conceal leave his lips, he glanced upward, his good eye locking into the pair of navy ones that were seemingly staring a hole right through him.

Instantly, he felt like a child again, about to be reprimanded for coming in too late, or being caught doing something he knew he shouldn't be. Why he felt like that, he couldn't quite understand. Hell, how long had it been? At least a decade...

"Why aren't you getting in?" Roy finally broke the silence, his ebony orb glowering precariously as he broke the stare between him and the older man. In the back of his head, he could hear his fingertips tapping on the door panel, rhythmically along with the rain.

"Because I don't feel the need to," Rian finally replied, his brow narrowing as he stared down at the boy he hadn't seen in over ten years. He immediately caught sight of the various medals and ranking marks on the uniform his son wore, though he hid any expression that indicated he was in the least bit proud. Perhaps, he'd save that for later. When he was drunk.

"Then why are you still standing there?" The man wanted to bite his tongue, but past regrets and bitterness wouldn't let him. He could feel the heat seizing his pale cheeks, but was thankful for the blanket of darkness the night provided him.

Just before his father could throw the General a perfectly good retort, Hawkeye cut in, doing her best to cool down the tempers that were starting to flare.

"Excuse me, you must be Rian Mustang. What a pleasure it is to finally meet you, sir," the blonde stated in her most formal tone, extending her hand past Roy and out towards the rolled down window. "I've heard quite a lot about you," she lied through her teeth, earning a quite confused stare from the younger Mustang.

"Is that right?" the older man questioned incredulously, an eyebrow raising questioningly. He gave her hand a glance, but made no move to return the gesture, making sure to showcase the disgust he felt towards the military loud and clear.

She ignored the snub, continuing to be as polite as she could bare. Many a time, she'd come across a drunken Roy in their early days, mumbling something about, _"that damned bastard...deserves to burn in hell for the things he's done,"_ and other various words and phrases he so dutifully used to describe his father. Apparently, he wasn't kidding.

"Well, I can see that ice is still circulating through your veins, even after all these years. You haven't changed a bit," Roy quipped before Riza could get a word in edgewise.

"And I see that you haven't either, 'cept for that thing you've got over your eye. Guess they don't make 'em big enough to fit over your mouth," Rian remarked, earning a heated glare from Roy. He was silent for a moment, sizing his son up as best he knew how. "Tell me, your military still hiring children?"

The younger Mustang immediately opened his mouth for a dignified response when his father's question finally sunk in. "Children?" he nearly scoffed at the notion, sarcasm building in his tone. "Now Rian, what ever gave you the idea that we accepted...children?" He could already feel the acid biting at his tongue, the man inwardly kicking himself for actually wanting to hear what the old man had to say.

"Don't act as though you don't know," the fiftysomething man stated with his own smirk. He couldn't help but stare at the dumbfounded look in his son's eyes, making him all the more interested in the boy he'd lost touch with so many years ago. "Some years back, I had a few boys stop by, and one of them just happened to be a State Alchemist. Smartass little bastard if you ask me, but if he was one of yours, that would go without saying, wouldn't it?" His navy orbs gleamed in the moonlight that was slowly starting to peek out of the clouds, the corners of his mouth still faintly showcasing a disbelieving grin.

Roy suddenly found himself staring straight ahead, memories that had long been etched into the confines of his mind passing right before his very eyes, forcing him to see images he'd put away for safe keeping some time ago.

But he kept his silence momentary. He'd let those visions of a child that had grown up too soon invade his consciousness later, perhaps when he was unconscious.

"What are you doing out in the middle of nowhere, Rian?" Roy's tone had suddenly grown serious, surprising both his subordinate and his father.

The older man's face transformed back into that of impassiveness, his posture immediately straightening. He cleared his throat before he spoke, his gaze still fixed on Roy.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, boy," he informed the General, backing away from the vehicle. "I thought you might have been of some assistance; that is, until I realized who you were," Rian muttered with bitterness in his tone, his shadow quickly fading away into the darkness as his feet crunched on the gravel below.

It didn't take long for Roy to follow suit, something telling him that he had to find out what was going on, and fast. "Stay here," he murmured, not so much as even giving the woman at his left a glance. "I'll be right back."

He was out of the car before he could hear her recite, "Understood, sir," followed by a helpless sigh. She shook her head as she watched the younger Mustang catch up with the elder, inwardly praying there wouldn't be any punches thrown.

"Wait." It was as though his voice seemingly echoed throughout the night, the trees silent for the moment, though only for the moment. It didn't take long before the wind started to scream, rustling what was left of their leaves.

The man continued to walk, ignoring his son's command. He only stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, a surprisingly firm yet gentle grip holding him in place.

"I didn't ask." The younger of the two watched as his father slowly turned to face him, his ebony orb staring into the all too familiar navy ones that greeted him solemnly. "You and I both know that the place we used to call home is more than thirty kilometers east of here. So obviously, you weren't here merely by coincidence." Roy paused for a moment, finally noticing what he was unable to before.

There was fear in his father's eyes. An emotion he'd never witnessed his father express, especially not openly.

"You're running away from something," the State Alchemist declared, his hand slowly slipping off Rian's shoulder. "But from what?" He couldn't take his eye off the man that stood in front of him now, curiosity confiscating his soul.

The man grunted in response, silent laughter dancing in his eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that damn little brat was yours." A mocking smile turned up the corner of his lips once again, the man inwardly enjoying the game the two were playing.

"Quit the small talk, Rian. I want to know what's going on." His tone was serious, matching the expression he wore across his visage.

"It's none of your damn business. It stopped being your business the minute you walked out the door." Navy orbs disappeared into the velveteen darkness once more as the older man turned his back, stalking off towards what appeared to be a truck, the back right tire blown out.

Clenching his jaw, he followed the man once more, steeling himself as best he could, so not as to lose his mind.

"Maybe...Maybe I can help you," Roy forced the words from his lips, feeling his teeth grind against one another, the noise echoing throughout his head.

The offer more than caught the older man's attention, he immediately stopping in his tracks and turning to face the boy who'd abandoned him too long ago. He caught only a glimpse of the desperation his son was letting off, the rest of it more than likely confined to his covered eye. Rian exhaled, attempting to let out some of the frustration that had been building within him.

"No," the older Mustang started, shaking his head. "I don't think you can. Not this time." His voice was surprisingly gentle, it being no where near the tone he had first started off with. It was softer this time around, and weary.

"It can't be that bad," Roy offered, his visage contorting into a look of confusion. He studied his father, barely able to see his face through the dark, with the exception of a few stray rays of moonlight that escaped through the thick clouds. The older man had surely aged since the last time they'd seen each other, but it appeared even more so around his eyes and mouth, the fine lines now visible, even in the dimness.

"More than you know," Rian replied, letting out a sigh as he turned towards the truck once more, though he didn't move towards it. He kept still for a moment before finally turning back around, the fear more than present in his navy orbs once again.

"I only have so much-"

"You were right," the words the man didn't want to say escaped through the night air and into his son's ears.

"What?" Roy stared at Rian, taken aback by the man's sudden admittance. "About what?" The General was captivated now, his interest leaping tenfold.

A dry laugh left Rian's throat, his eyes turning to slits for a few seconds before the nervous laughter dissolved. "About me running away. You were right," he confirmed, hating every second of it.

The younger Mustang's brow declined even further, curiosity filling his good eye. He leaned forward slightly, his interest peaked. He never would of thought in a million years his father would ever admit that he, Roy Mustang, was indeed, right. It wasn't even a fathomable idea.

"Go on," the ebony-eyed man stated, his voice low as he saw the fear wash over his father's face, gradually making its way to his dark orbs. He'd never seen the man like that, not even when his mother died. Something was definitely wrong.

Rian couldn't look at his son, too embarrassed because of the words that were about to come out of his mouth. But the more he thought about it, the less important it seemed, his mind traveling back to the horrors he'd seen and heard. His navy eyes slowly wandered toward the woods, a slight, involuntary shudder coming over him.

"There's something out th-"

"General!" Hawkeye called out, interrupting the words the younger Mustang was trying so desperately to hear. "Sir, I have some very disturbing news," she stated, attempting to catch her breath. Ignoring the glare that the said man was now staring at her with, she continued. "There was just a breaking news bulletin and it concerns a town near our destination." She paused, awaiting for his approval to go on.

Roy glanced at Rian, clenching his jaw as nodded at the woman, giving her the go ahead.

"Reports are coming into Central stating that there are-" she cut herself off, almost afraid to go on. Taking a deep breath, she went on, knowing how strange her next sentence was going to sound. "— monsters running amok in the streets of Sumner, terrorizing the citizens. It hasn't been confirmed, but—"

"Let's go." It was a definite command, one that the blonde understood completely, she already making her way back to their vehicle. "And you're coming too," he announced, not even giving the older man a second glance, his military-issued boots already crunching their way back to the parked car.

Without a word, his father followed him. Maybe it was time he start listening to that boy.

Maybe.

&&&&&

The sound of the wind teasing his ears forced him to open his eyes, the chilly air flooding across his bare arms, making the there but barely noticeable hair stand up on end. Taking in a deep breath, the teen took in his surroundings, realizing that he was in a place far from Germany. Hell, far from this world.

The familiar hunter green curtains came into view, the cottony material fluttering against the breeze that was pushing across its heavy fibers. A dark horizon loomed ominously behind the half-open glass, the pane beneath collecting tiny droplets from the outside world.

To his left was the kitchen, to his far right, an empty bed. It only took a moment to recall who's it was, and who would never sleep in it again.

He knew this place. It was rooted deep within the confines of his soul. No matter what happened to him, no matter where he went, he'd always remember this place. It was his safety, his stronghold, yet a prison in its own right.

"No matter how much time passes, the beauty of a summer storm never changes," a voice startled him from the silent state he was in. The brunette's head immediately snapped in the direction that the voice had come from, tears brimming at his eyes as he realized who was staring back at him.

"Dad!" The excitement in his voice was hardly containable, the teen almost sounding like a child again. For a moment, he almost thought he was.

His gunmetal orbs traced the aging man's features, from his thick mane of golden blonde hair, though faded with time, all the way to those hauntingly familiar eyes. The eyes he only had the chance of looking into once, and that was some time ago. Far too long ago.

Fine lines had weaved their way into his skin, etching themselves just underneath his eyes and near his mouth. And as he smiled, Alphonse could see them stretch just the tiniest bit, forcing him to remember—even if it was only for a nanosecond—that this was only a figment of his imagination.

But for once, he liked this place that he was in. It seemed so calm, so serene; perfectly comfortable to the point where it seemed nothing could go wrong.

The younger alchemist could feel a grin tugging at his lips as well, but he restrained how large the smile stretched, not wanting to appear too childish or giddy. After all, he was eighteen now. A man. Living in Germany, not here, and not with his father. No, his father was dead. Gone. Killed by a homunculus. At least, that's what Ed had told him.

Alphonse could suddenly feel the taut grin fading from his face, a more world-wary expression conquering his visage. His brow slowly narrowed, a look of bemusement achingly making its way into his eyes.

After a long silence, he spoke finally, letting his words choose themselves. "You're-You're not real."

"Right now, I'm as real as you want me to be, son," Hohenheim informed him in that casual tone he always seemed to use when he spoke. A few strands of loose hair dangled in front of his golden orbs, gently falling upon his cheek as the warm breeze blew past them. "Your mother and I used to watch these all the time. The sound of the rain would always put her to sleep." He let a low laugh escape his throat as his gaze fixed itself on the scene that was taking place outside. "But not you and Edward. I'm not quite sure who was more scared of the thunder, you or him."

The teenager was transfixed, unable to stop listening to the man that had abandoned his family so long ago. Of course, he had come back, but it was too late by then. But now...

Why did it feel so real? Everything—the moisture in the air, the scent of rain, the lightning crossing the sky, far off in the distance; he shivered, unable to shake the feeling of the possibility that somehow, he was really there, as well as his father. He wanted to believe it so badly.

"I do recall the time we heard one of you scream during a fairly bad storm. If I remember correctly, lightning had struck not too far away..." His voice drifted off for a moment, as though he were actually watching the memory instead of telling it. "Anyway," the man continued, clearing his throat. "Your mother and I ran to your room, and low and behold, you and Edward were laying next to one another in your crib, your arms around each other, eyes closed tight. We couldn't get either one of you to let go until you both had fallen back asleep..."

"But you're not here to reminisce, are you?" The younger alchemist's voice was low, his eyes glistening in the dim shades of grey that poured in through the open window. He couldn't look at the man right now, ultimately knowing what his response would be. He closed his eyes as he bowed his head, almost cringing as he felt the wind lightly brush against his cheek, pulling a few locks of hair up with it and twirling them around before letting them fall back to their resting place.

A faint trace of a smile crossed the older man's thin lips, evidence of his true age showcasing itself in his eyes. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke, using that same easy-going tone.

"No, I'm not," he answered honestly, his gaze falling from the window to his son's face, pain etching itself across his aged visage. "I'm here as a warning," the man stated, his voice dropping a notch as he shifted in the chair, turning to face the eighteen-year-old.

"A warning? For what? For home?" the questions flew from the young man's lips a mile a minute, he nearly jumping out of his seat, never having seen his father so serious. It just didn't quite fit the man.

"Something's going to happen, son. Something that's going to turn this country and even those surrounding it upside down, if nothing is done. If you ever were planning on returning...you might not come back to anything." Hohenheim's voice was almost sad, a hint of sorrow dancing in his faded golden orbs.

"Well, what? What is it?" Alphonse nearly screeched, his body starting to shake underneath the thin layer of clothing he wore. He could feel heat wash over his cheeks as the breeze that was blowing through the open window suddenly turned cold, downright bitter. His breath caught in his throat as he watched his father rise to his feet, the sound of the older man's footsteps echoing eerily through the empty house.

"People that you loved, that you cared for...will die. This world will cease to exist. The Gate will open its doors for the very last time on this side, and anything and everything that ever happened here will disappear. A vast wasteland will stand before you, ghosts will walk the land, and they will be the only reminder that a living soul actually existed here. The binds that keep this world together are slowly unraveling, at a rate neither you or I could fathom. You and Edward are needed here."

As the older alchemist continued to stare out the window, his back turned to his son, the scene that stretched across the stormy sky grew more violent, lightning striking almost every other second. Thunder boomed and cackled, shaking the ground and making all the glass in the house tremble. And as Al's vision wandered further, he took notice of the land and how it changed.

Gone was the grass so green that it glimmered like running water in the summer sun. Suddenly gone was the light breeze that had been teasing his skin ever so gently. Bit by bit, the walls of the home he and Ed had burned down so long ago vanished, taking all the knickknacks and alchemy books and those hunter green curtains along with it, leaving him and his father standing in the middle of nothingness.

The earth shifted below him, and as he glanced down, he wanted to scream as the ground turned into a horrid reddish-brown color, sticky and reeking of blood. He opened his mouth to speak, but was overwhelmed by the odor that filled his nostrils, leaving him to gag on the remnants that were sticking to the back of his throat.

His gunmetal orbs looked to the hill-less horizon, the land seemingly stretching on forever, no matter which direction he faced. And all that he saw was nothing, complete and absolute nihility.

"What's going on?" Alphonse cried out as a loud moaning noise arose from out of nowhere. It was quiet at first, though it steadily gained strength before becoming so loud he could hardly hear his father talking.

"They're calling out to you, son." Hohenheim's voice was gentle, but his tone was filled with an unknown emotion Al could only identify as fear.

"What? Who?" the teenager exclaimed, his eyes widening as the sound grew to almost deafening proportions.

"The voices of the dead," his father explained, slowly turning back to face the young man who had become terrified by the notion that dead people were screaming at him, albeit ones he actually knew.

"No! No, this can't be right! This isn't going to happen! It can't!" The eighteen-year-old's voice continued to rise and shake as the noise whirled around him, sounding so utterly close, yet so far away. His body jerked as wet droplets rained against his pale skin, and it took a moment for him to realize that they weren't their usual transparent color. No, the color of the rain that was falling upon the teen was stained crimson, contrasting oddly with the light shade of his flesh.

Slowly, he raised his head, staring at the violent sky that loomed above him. The ruby-red rain continued to pour down on him, staining his clothes and skin, but as his gaze drifted to Hohenheim, he saw that the older man didn't have a drop on him. He was unscathed by the blood bath.

"How do we stop this?" His voice was trembling now, tears rocking back and forth in his scared grey orbs, like waves in a restless ocean.

His father was silent for a moment, facing the soulless wasteland that decorated the once beautiful fields and hills. Slowly, the man turned to face him once more, his golden eyes glowing as though they'd been set afire. "Come home."

It only took a second for darkness to wash over his vision, and before he knew it, he was lying on his back, breathless, in a bed that was not his own.

&&&&&

Sweat was trickling down his forehead and temples, his chest rising and falling faster than he thought was possible as he sat up in the bed. His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, the veins throbbing in his neck, his mouth dry due to lack of liquid.

"Ed?" Al called out weakly, the teen slowly coming to his senses, but a taste of the dream still lingered in the back of his eyes. "Brother?" he tried once more, cringing as pain started to electrocute the nerves in his arm. His left hand immediately shot to the covered wound, his teeth gritting as another searing pain shot through his muscle.

The door to the near-empty room practically flew open as Edward hurried in, limping all the way over to his little brother's bed, a crooked grin on his still youthful visage. "You're awake," the nineteen-year-old announced, his golden orbs gleaming as he stared down at Al. The grin quickly faded from his features as he took note of the fear and hurt that was etched across his sibling's face, dried tears staining Alphonse's cheeks. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh...my arm just hurts," Al lied, glancing down at the bed sheets, mentally kicking himself for not telling his brother the truth. Sometimes, he was a worse liar that Ed. And Edward knew it too, taking and holding that fact to his advantage.

"Come on, Al, I'm not stupid. What's wrong? Why were you crying?" He studied his younger brother, worry slowly crossing his brow the longer the young man took to respond. "Al!" he couldn't help but scold, hating the fact that he knew Alphonse was hiding something from him. "Just tell me. Was it a bad dream?"

The eighteen-year-old was more than hesitant to respond, his gaze gradually climbing from the bed to his brother's distraught appearance. Dammit, he just couldn't do it. Well, not _completely_.

"I...I had a dream about—about Dad." His voice was just short of a whisper, his vocal chords threatening to give out on him if he said much more without drinking anything. "Can I please have a glass of water?" He was trying to change the subject in any way he could, but the former alchemist knew by the expression on his older brother's face that the subject was going to be fully discussed, no matter how hard he tried to push past it.

The brunette watched as Ed poured him a glass of water from a pitcher that was sitting on a small nightstand on the right side of his bed. He hurriedly took the tumbler from his brother's hand, gulping down its contents within seconds, his dry throat thanking him for it but his brain reprimanding him at the same time. Now he had no excuse as to why he couldn't speak.

"Well?" Edward urged him to talk, looking thoughtfully curious, but still concerned at the same time. There had been a few things Ed had forgotten to mention about their father's death, like the fact that the man had basically let his life be taken by his own hands. And the other being that he'd done it all so Ed could go home.

Yet look where he was now.

Alphonse's gaze slowly fell upon his older brother, silently observing the young man as a hint of anger crept across his face. Al knew where the anger had come from. It always came around almost any time with the mention of their father. Ed had tried his best to disguise it now, a far cry from the out right hate he used to show the man.

But things were different now. That man was dead.

"He-He was talking to me, about us and Mom...about things that had happened a long time ago." He paused for a moment, thinking his words out before he said them. The dreams that he had been having were becoming increasingly disturbing, let alone frighteningly real. No—there was no use worrying Ed. He had too many other things on his mind. They were more important than any stupid nightmare he'd had. _That's exactly what they are, just stupid, unreal, nightmares, _he told himself, knowing it was somehow still a lie. "About home," the brunette finally stated, forcing a small smile to tip up the corners of his lips.

"Oh." Surprisingly, Edward was quiet for a moment, a questioning look in his eyes as he continued to stare down at his younger brother. "What did he say?" His voice was low; unbelieving. Never in a million years would he have ever cared about what his father had said, especially in a dream. But for some unknown reason now, he needed to know.

"He said—" Al paused again, a shaky hint of a laugh befalling his throat. "Um, he said that when you were little, you used to be afraid of thunderstorms, and you'd come crawl up into my crib until it was over." Tears presented themselves in the young man's gunmetal orbs once more, he trying to laugh them off; but at the moment, the task deemed almost impossible. A quiet sob suddenly escaped his lips, he immediately covering his eyes with his good arm.

Just seeing his little brother breaking down in front of him nearly made Ed's heart feel like it was in his throat, guilt wading its way through his system. _It isn't fair, _a tiny voice inside his head screamed. _He shouldn't have to go through this! _

Clenching his jaw and steadying himself as best he could, Edward sat down on the edge of the bed, gently laying a metallic hand on Al's shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?" he inquired softly, the guilt growing like a tidal wave preparing to hit the unsuspecting sand.

A few more contained sobs left the younger man before he could reply. "It's just that—I miss him." He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I know it sounds strange, but I _do_. There's so many things he could've taught us, you know? He was so smart, and brave. And he loved us." More tears came, teasing the balance that he'd so perfectly created. "He _loved_ us, Ed, but he's gone. He's _gone_." The water in his eyes spilled over onto his perplexed cheeks once more, his chest rising up and down as he tried to control the loud cry that was about to part his lips.

Without a word, Ed slowly put his arms around his distraught brother, holding him tight as more sobs reverberated around the room, making the older of the two feel even worse. But he just couldn't bring himself to say the things he needed to say. He didn't want to fight right now. And telling Alphonse that he'd lied would just make the whole thing blow up in his face. He'd save it for another time.

Silence drifted between them for longer than Edward could count, and after awhile, he slowly pulled away from the eighteen-year-old, though one hand still rested gently on Al's good shoulder. In a way, he was relieved, mutely thankful that Al was actually behaving like a kid again. But he knew that the feeling was fleeting, and all would go back to like it had been as of late.

"How's your arm feel? Carl said the bullet went straight through, and that there shouldn't be any lasting damage. It's just going to hurt like hell for awhile." For once, he was being the caring, older brother; the type of brother he should've been all along, but sometimes more than not, his own selfish desires got in the way of things, making him blind to the more obvious facts that were right in front of his face.

"It'll be fine," Al forced a superficial smile, shrugging off his brother's touch, anger slowly creasing the lines in his forehead. He'd gone and done it again. Ed had successfully changed the subject from one thing to another, silently avoiding the problem at hand. Dammit, he wanted to talk about their father! He _wanted _to know what he was like! But no, Ed wouldn't let him. Not today, not tomorrow, or any other day for that matter.

"Al? What is it? What's wrong?" the nineteen-year-old asked, obviously confused at his younger sibling's sudden emotional transformation. "Are you okay?" he tried again, only receiving a grunt as a response. He watched as Al shakily got to his feet, ignoring the words that left Edward's lips. "Where are you going?" Ed inquired, strands of gold falling in his face as he went to follow his younger brother.

"Just—don't, Ed. Not right now," Al stated in an even tone, his good arm extended out behind him in attempt to make sure Edward didn't try to stop him. "I just want to be left alone for a little while," he added, his voice low and his face still turned towards the door. Without another word, he exited the room, leaving Ed in his speechless wake.

Outside, the rain that had been falling slowly turned into snow, decorating the forest scenery. But neither of the two young men caught the beautiful sight, too engulfed within their thoughts to see it.

**Author's note : I am so everyone for taking over a month to update this! I had two weddings to attend and my husband's family reunion, so I was hardly at home. Much of this chapter was written while on the road, so hopefully, it's not too bad. ; )**

**Thank you all so much for your patience with me. I know I can be trying, and I just want to THANK Legendary Chimera, ShadowMist, Kibamonkey777, JChrys, ShinigamiXIII, Pink Pagoda, Dark Mage Makai, TelevisionGod, ShadowCloud62, Shattered Mirror01, kelol, and everyone else who has supported this story thus far. **

**I hope to hear from each of you. Please let me know how I'm doing. And if anyone's interested, this story is probably going to be a bit longer than Whispers, if my planning is right, anyway. Oh well, hope it sufficed. **


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